I’ve got something to tell you.

I never knew how to say it, so I’m going to write it here and hope that you read it.

I did sleep with that guy.

I was wasted and he was rubbish, and the real reason that I didn’t call you that day wasn’t because I left my phone at home, it was because I was hungover in his bed and I couldn’t move.

He kept on trying to kiss me and I didn’t want to. He tasted like cheap coke and cigarettes. He kept leaning on my hair and it hurt, and he got angry when I complained.

I’m sorry that I couldn’t tell you.
I always wanted too.

I know it doesn’t count for a lot, but it really didn’t mean anything.