‘I always had a feeling it could be you, but I thought I was being paranoid’: the letter you always wanted to write

The first time I met you, at a work party, I knew something was wrong. You weren’t just flirty, you were really intense. You made a joke about sexual harassment as you hugged me goodbye, which I initially brushed off. But then you started “accidentally” bumping into me. This was suspicious, as you lived on the other side of the city.

You kept suggesting dinner and drinks to which I politely made excuses. It was only when I realised that the new underwear I had bought was nowhere to be found, and noticed a strange stain on my grey bed sheets, that I knew someone had been in my flat.

I didn’t immediately think about you, because I didn’t contemplate it as a possibility. I messaged my mum – the only person who has the keys to my flat – and asked her if she had let herself in. When she confirmed that she hadn’t, my heart dropped. I spoke to a couple of friends who tried to reassure me that I could just have misplaced the underwear, but it didn’t make me feel less worried.

You were texting me relentlessly at the time, so I always had a feeling it could be you, but thought I was being paranoid. When I went to the local shop, the owner told me a friend of mine had been waiting for me all night. At first I thought he was joking, but he mentioned that you had been there another time last week – the day I found the stain. I asked him to describe the “friend”; every detail matched your appearance.

I messaged our mutual friend, to ask a couple of questions about you. Before I’d had the time to ask him anything, he congratulated me. I asked him why. He said: “Don’t act stupid, he told me you two are together now!” I felt a wave of disgust. If letting yourself inside my flat wasn’t enough of a violation, the fact that you had told people we were in a relationship was the most nauseating thought. I knew that you could become violent if I spoke to you directly, so I went straight to the police. They were incredibly helpful, despite the lack of hard evidence.

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I feel lucky that those close to me gave me the strength to take this to court. Even though I am now protected from you by a restraining order, I still feel scared that every time I turn around, you might be behind me. Whenever I feel a breeze on my neck, I worry it might be your breath. I hope I can feel safe again, but don’t know if I can.

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