I went to a gay club on Sunday night. Everything felt safe and right. My chaperone was a longtime acquaintance surrounded by a reputation they seemingly couldn't help. I did my due and asked my partner to let me go, explaining that no matter what happens I'll spit abuse and throw kicks if I have to. Yet no one flirted, stared at, or touched me. That is until our chaperone began giving little touches here and there disguised as an honest attempt to direct and protect his friend. The dirt he left on my shoulders, my hands, and my waist still remains. In the car, he must've realized I was drunk and decided to try his luck at my thigh. Several times he grazed it, as if it were a friendly thing to do. You fucking incel loser. He must think, "I've done it again! Stolen touches in my secret way. I've done no harm, she is perfectly well."
I hope you choke on your steak and suffer greatly before you die. I hope the next woman you try to bed denies you with such grace and dominance that your balls shrivel up and fall off. I hope your attempts at finding love fall short each time, just until you wise up and realize how embarrassing you are, and how uncomfortable you make the women around you.
Not only have you humiliated me, but you've also made me feel unable to tell my partner what happened out of fear that the bad energy in the house we cohabitate in will rise to the surface again. I am embarrassed before my partner and ashamed, feeling it's now my fault that you crossed the line. I cowered and denied anything happened to even my sister! Granted those wasted opportunities are my fault, but you're the one who caused it. FUCK YOU!!!!!
I built up the courage to be kind and friendly enough for us to live comfortably once more. I made progress and felt I was growing. You took my progress, on a whim, and started bludgeoning it with your deformed desire until it bled and faded out. I live with three boys. I lock my door at night. I keep a knife on my nightstand. I decided to live here knowing the risk and foolishly taking responsibility. Something so minor and insignificant in the regular world has dashed my hope to pieces.
Each time your hand returned to my skin I wished to bite your face off, chew it, swallow, digest, and shit it out. Even at this very moment, I want to spill your blood and castrate you. If you come to know these thoughts of mine I will be labeled as insane and too violent for the world of men. What a mind-boggling notion, filled with such irony and twisting of logic.
Tonight when the opportunity arrives, I will come to you and kill your ego. You believe me to have nothing but a wavering, thoughtless existence in the face of men. When you said I scared you, you lied.
