I forgive you. Dude, I do.

But the disappointment still hurts. For five years we were so close. We were such good friends. I thought of you before myself so often. I worried about you. My heart hurt so much when my mind tried to comprehend how painful it was to experience the losses you experienced at such a young age. My heart still goes out to you to this day.

But I cannot forgive what you did. Yes, you were drunk and yes it’s a difficult time of year for you. That is why I welcomed you into my home on Boxing day.

It’s not so much what you did, whilst my boyfriend was in the other room. It’s not so much that it ruined a night I was having fun being sober and icing cookies and playing with my dogs.

It’s not that you failed to notice how uncomfortable you were making me and I kept going out of my way to step away from you. Packing up my icing, edible glitter and the cookies I was decorating, even though I was really liking relaxing (for once).

It’s not because you let alcohol get the better of you and repeatedly crossed the line to the point I left my own home in tears, and tried to find a plan to get you to leave without upsetting you.

Yep, I didn’t want to upset YOU.

I tried to make it ok in my head. You were hurting, you were wasted.

It’s that the next day when I text you, you ignored it. You continued to ignore it. Never apologising, even knowing how much it destroyed any trust I had in you. Knowing what i’d been through in my life and how fragile I was.

I kept trying to justify it. I could have accepted it, if you had shown remorse.

I spent the next week crying, whilst you broadcast your fun times on social media.

I made my boyfriend promise to not contact you. My best friend couldn’t hide his disgust. You were his friend too.

I could have forgiven you sooner had you shown remorse.

You didn’t turn out the person I grew to love as family for half a decade.

You really hurt me dude. At a time I couldn’t take any more emotional pain.

It is never ok to do what you did. I, being the only sober one, still drove you home with the guys ( I wasn’t going to alone) because I didn’t want you to walk all of that way alone, at night. I still cared.

I still do to some extent.

But I can never be your friend again. I am sad that you disrespected my boyfriend too. He welcomed you as a friend.

Maybe i’m lame that I wanted a sober quiet night of decorating cookies, drinking tea and chilling with my dogs. But after the year i’d had, it was just lovely to chill.

I do not regret welcoming you when you called me up drunk reminding me i’d previously invited you to join us. I’m glad I found out now about your character. Rather than investing an entire decade or more into a friendship.

You made me feel gross. And knocked my already low self esteem. You made me feel uncomfortable in my own home. It is not flattering. It is not flirting, and even if it was it was highly inappropriate.

How could you not tell I was having a panic attack? Couldn’t you tell I was almost crying? Didn’t you notice I left my own home for half an hour to return to insist we take you home?

I didn’t tell my boyfriend because I knew the outcome wouldn’t have been good in that moment. My best friend told him later that night why I was tearful and no longer enjoying the festivities.

I am sad for your sadness. I am compassionate, I hurt thinking of what you’ve been through, but once sober and aware of what you’d done, the lack of acknowledgement and remorse cemented the end of what I thought was an incredible friendship.

I doubt you’ll ever read this.

But if you do… I don’t hate you. I wish you well. But please do not contact me again. I used to think I could be there for anyone, even those who’d previously hurt me if they got back in touch and needed a shoulder.

But I don’t think I could.

You knew about the therapy I was having. You knew about past experiences. You knew about the other guy when I was 21 who did the same thing, again after being welcomed into my home whilst my boyfriend was skiing abroad.

But that guy, that guy felt awful. He went above and beyond apologising and he self reflected. He was sincere.

It’s a shame you didn’t care how much you hurt me.

It is never ok to put your hands all over a woman’s body, or to follow constantly as she walks away from you  … how did you not notice I was having a panic attack? Some women would have slapped you. Kicked you out. I just wanted to rewind to the day before when I thought you were a good friend. I froze. You made me feel disgusting. You made me doubt myself. You made me go to a place of utter disbelief. You made me reassure myself that I was wearing a high neck t-shirt, baggy cardigan and panda slippers and then hate myself for thinking that if I had been dressed less modestly that would have somehow justified it. Even if a woman is wearing a fishnet top and a mini skirt, or pasties (I don’t know, trying to think of what is perceived as risqué clothing)… it is not OK. I hated myself in that moment being confused by your actions and I lost respect for myself that I even thought that way in that moment. ‘I’m not wearing a low cut top or short skirt?’.

That’s irrelevant. No woman deserves it, no matter what she does or doesn’t wear. I felt like I was in some way slut shaming in my mind. Something so far removed from how I truly think. However when trying to make sense of it and trying to find blame in myself, I thought so stupidly and focused on my clothing.

…And embarrassed. The awkwardness I felt when my best friend told my parents on FaceTime why I wasn’t answering their calls and why I was in bed for days crying. They were not buying the ‘she’s not feeling well’.  I resented my friend for his honesty, for being truthful to my folks about what happened that Saturday night. This caused friction between us. However, in hindsight, I respect that he wasn’t dishonest with them.

I wish you well, I’m still grateful for night’s you stayed on the phone with me until 5am the mornings following my mother’s stroke. I kind of miss that guy. Not the guy I later met. Not necessarily the drunken one who crossed several lines in one night, but the one who didn’t care that he’d done that the following day/week. That guy’s not cool. That guy’s icky.

Your losses and the tragedies in your life don’t make it ok that you didn’t show remorse the following days. I am compassionate to your suffering, and if you’d truly and sincerely been shocked by your actions and apologised and shown remorse, perhaps i’d have gotten past it and we’d still be in touch.

Like I said, I doubt you’ll ever read this, but now it’s there and there’s a chance you one day might come across it, I feel like a weight has been lifted. I won’t revisit it again.

Take Care, and grow from this. Be better. You’re better than that. x