A year and a half ago, I went to a bar. I met this guy there, and while I was drunk falling asleep, he was hitting on me. Putting his hand around my waist and my head on his chest. When I had to be taken home, he told his friends how sexy I looked in my underwear and bra, and that he could take care of me while they left. Thankfully, another guy put a stop to it. 

It’s been over a year, and I still think about him. Part of me should be disgusted with how he tried to take advantage of me, but I’m not. I’ve never had my first kiss before, and I’m a virgin. I would’ve been glad if he took my virginity from me that night. I was also ovulating that night, so I could’ve gotten pregnant, but I’ve always wanted to be a mother, so I wouldn’t complain about that. 

I’ve never had another guy like me before. Maybe I have, but they’ve never been so overt about their interest in me. Judging by how confident he was with me, it’s not too far out of the realm of possibility to believe that he’s probably done this to at least one, if not several, other girls before. He likely has taken advantage of other girls. 

I want to marry him. I want the wedding, and I want to move across the country where he lives. I want to have several kids with him. He has an abusive nature to him, and he’d probably beat me, and likely even take advantage of me, but I welcome it. He’d probably force himself on me if I’m drunk or asleep, but I feel like it’s not such a big deal. If I want marriage and a family, it comes with a catch. But it’s one I’m willing to take. 

I know it’s not healthy to think this way. There’s another amazing guy that I like who would never do anything like that to me, but I don’t know if he likes me back. On bad days, I think about marrying a guy who attempted to rape me. I still keep in contact with him, and he always likes my Instagram posts and is the first to watch them.