Part 4: The Proof

I went on a mission trip for a week to Florida. When I got back, “A” fessed up to not only invading my privacy in an online fashion, but to breaking into my room and going through my stuff. Because he confessed, my parent’s didn’t want to kick him out. My mother has always been a big believer in telling the truth and second chances.

He had sworn he wasn’t going to do anything to me again, and he was supposed to basically leave me alone. But, I didn’t trust him and I just knew that he was still spying on me. Once again, no one really believed me, assuming I was being bitter. But I just knew it wasn’t done. It’s almost like he would say things that he couldn’t know unless he was invading my privacy. So, one day, I got onto a file downloading website (that I used for music.. I buy my music now, I swear it!) and I downloaded lesbian porn and just left it on my desktop to be found.  (Yep, I’m a genius)

It took two days before he hacked into my messenger service, unblocked himself and IMed me wanting to know if he was so horrible to turn me lesbian. I was at work when he messaged me, where I used to work with my mother and my friend’s mom (the one housing his brother). Within minutes of him unblocking himself, he started to taunt me once again. I threw an absolute fit and rounded up my mother and her friend, told them what I did to get proof, showed them where he all but confessed to accessing my computer again and I think that is when they really saw what it felt like to me. I had a mental break down that day where I was just over it. 

I don’t know how to accurately word this to truly get my feelings across. For the better part of a year, I had known he was violating my privacy, my emails, my computer, my stuff and for most of that year no one believed me. And even when he finally admitted it, he wasn’t punished. I couldn’t email my best friend in TN because he would read it. I couldn’t lock myself in my room and just type a story out because he would find it. I couldn’t talk to friends online because he would unblock himself and terrorize me. I’ve never been a pen and paper writer. I literally cannot write a story, but I can type it out and that is my outlet and I couldn’t do that because he was there. He was always there.

Even now, my words don’t do justice, how traumatizing it was. They don’t accurately describe how hopeless and helpless I felt. Nothing could accurately describe how it feels to have the first guy you trusted in that capacity wish to hurt you so badly. That is one of the few times in my life I could have so easily become a cutter because at the end of the day, I could understand how pain could be an outlet because I had no other outlet.  Even now, writing this brings back those memories and drives me to tears.