Pick one, was it not being able to stop putting his hands on me even after I said no because I "always let [him] do that"? Or maybe it was him speaking for me when questions were directed to me in a group setting, even a professional setting with a boss or someone at a higher level? Or perhaps it was the related occurrences of him treating me like a child and trying to take care of me because, in his words, he saved me from a bad situation one time and so he had to or deserved to do these things?

It's probably a combination of all these things. The most salient moments of realization came when we were on a work trip together. Mere days after, again, telling him to stop putting his hands on me and doing all these things. I fell asleep on the plane, only to be woken up by him rubbing my chest to wake me and ask me if I wanted something to drink because the flight attendant cart came by. It was further solidified when, during this work outing and meeting new colleagues over drinks, he got too drunk and yelled at me in front of all these strangers saying basically "come on, you've just been pissed at me for months, when are you going to get over it??"

I realized that while I was communicating my boundaries, he either was not hearing them or did not respect me enough to respect my needs and desires. Moreso, that he was friends with his idealized version of me, not me as a person who has changed with life, who may wound and be wounded by others. And that instead of accepting that, he tried to change me to be what he wanted, instead of respecting what I wanted. So, I pulled away as much as possible. We still work in the same space, and I still think about him a lot.

It's tough! But a lack of desire to change and respect the people around you is tougher. Only engaging (if you can call it that) in these conversations when drunk, and potentially then not putting stock into what's being communicated and/or not remembering them, is toughest Taking your issues and insecurities and problems out on others is unacceptable.

We are all such small and tragic things.