He ignored me the rest of the day. I did catch glares, but that I had to deal with. This was better. He wasn’t doing anything; I didn’t have to see him(I just happen to); and it was all over. Right? No. At least not to me. I’m so angry at him for getting away with this, for winnning the game. And I’m even more angry at me, for being so afraid. I should have told the first time. He did this to my friend once;she warned him she would tell;he stopped. So what’s wrong with me? I guess I just don’t deal well with pain. He knows what he did and he knows it still bothers me and he’s happy and I’m not. This is just wonderful. Wonderful. Wonderful. I can’t believe myself! I could have just told, I could have made it stop that first time…but no. I choose to hide it, convincing myself he would stop. Convincing myself that his face; his hands; his body;his voice were all fake. Just nightmares that never happened. And his threats. His threats were nightmares too, which just adds to the great great thing called pain.