Tonight I understand why I didn't tell anyone what happened. Tonight I'm afraid and alone in my house. I know that the Perpetrator who was just outed at our public meeting is almost certainly not going to come to my house and confront me, but science doesn't hold any comfort for me tonight.
I'm not saying he is a violent man or that I have any reason to believe that he will show up here, but I do know that there's a small chance he might and I'm petrified. My roomates know to call the police if he shows up, my phone is always by me and my friends have all offered their houses for me to stay in if I need, but no amount of safety planning can remove this feeling of dread. I dread seeing him again. I know I will have to one day, we live in the same neighbourhood, go to the same coffee shops, have similar friends. I don't know if I'm more afraid for my safety or for seeing his face, all broken. I feel like I destroyed his life, like I was the catalyst that finally ended his reign on top. It's a horrible feeling, knowing that his family have been told. That his family have to know what he did and the guilt and shame they are going to experience.
I know I did the right thing for me, but I wanted to share how shitty this is for anyone considering doing what I did, outing your attacker. It's a really hard road to walk down knowing you were integral to someones demise along the way. I know "it had to happen" and "he needs help" but tonight I feel pain for the ramifications in his world. Tomorrow the suns gonna wake me up and my dog will be adorable and I'll go for coffee with my girlfriends and for him, he'll have to wake up and be himself, exposed and alone.