It was a week before sophomore year started, and I was hanging out with a group of friends, one of whom was one of my best guy friends that I had a tiny crush on. He had been dating his girlfriend for over six months so I told myself there was no way I’d hook up with him. All of us decided to buy a bottle of Bacardi and take the bus to Causeway Bay to get dinner. We were all pretty fucked up and me and him were getting really close and before I knew it, we were kissing. After a few seconds I realized what was happening and we both looked at each other like holy shit. I still can’t forget the way I felt in that moment – regretting something so much and knowing I could never take it back. I was hoping it was some kind of nightmare. I began to cry and the next day he told his girlfriend. I messaged her, extremely apologetic, but I knew she wouldn’t forgive me. I didn’t deserve her forgiveness anyways. I was absolutely terrified to go to school, since everyone knew what I had done. I was so hesitant to go around school for the first few weeks after that. I thought everyone had to be thinking that I was some sort of homewrecker.
Looking back on it now, even though everything resolved itself, I never forgave myself for hurting her. Like I said, I regretted it the second it happened, but it did help me grow as a person. I also think people like to blame the “other woman” in these scenarios, and resort to slut shaming, which thankfully didn’t happen to me.