It wasn't exactly a "date rape", since we weren't exactly dating. So I guess it was more of an "acquaintance rape". Except we weren't actually acquainted. So as much as I hate to admit it, I guess it was more like just a plain, old-fashioned rape. Anyway. I've been an alcoholic since college, but recently decided to get clean. Tomorrow will be my 100th day of sobriety. I've been slowly working my way through the 12 step program, but I'm having a little trouble on step 9: apologizing and making amends to all who I've wronged. There are several Gals on that list who are slowing me down, and I have nowhere to turn to besides Reddit for advice on all of them, starting with this one in particular. [anonomized IP address, for reasons that will become obvious. Names and identifying details altered or omitted for privacy protection]. Friends, family, co-workers were all easy, all of them graciously accepting my humble apologies. But there's one person on the list who doesn't know me. Even though I know her. Intimately. It was many years ago. I was drunk at a frat party. She was at the same frat party--even more drunk. It was mostly an outdoor party, with hundreds of people there, a bonfire, and unlimited beer on tap. I went in to the house, in search of a bathroom. Instead, I stumbled into a bedroom and turned on the light. She was laying on top of the bedcovers, face-down. I could see her panties, under her too-short skirt. I knew her, because she was like the prettiest girl on campus, and a cheerleader. But she wouldn't know me from Adam. I shut and locked the door, and turned the light off. I knew I wanted to touch her. I flipped her skirt up, and carefully pulled her panties down, without even waking her. But when I began to touch her, she did wake up. She asked what the hell was going on, and started to get up, and I suddenly realized that I could be in real trouble here, so I made a spit second decision. I put my hand in the small of her back, and put some weight on it, and at the same time, in a menacing voice, told her to “SHUT UP”. She quit talking immediately and only struggled for a few more moments. I think we were both amazed at how helplessly pinned she was, with just my one hand. The bed was very soft, and she sunk into it deep, making any side-to-side movement impossible. “Do what you want” she whispered. “Just don’t hurt me.” In my drunken haze, that sounded like consent. I lowered my pants, and climbed onto her back, freeing up the hand that had been holding her down. I instead covered her mouth, just in case she decided to scream. As I made love to her, I buried my face in her hair. I still remember that it smelled like apples. In a moment of concern for her, I asked if she was on any birth control. She shook her head “no”. I asked if she wanted me to finish by doing her anally, so she wouldn't get pregnant. She hesitated, contemplating which was the lesser of two evils. Then, she nodded. In my drunken mind, I again interpreted this as consent. When I was finished, I told her to lay there and count to 100. For all I know, she did. I left the party. Went home and drank some more, until I passed out. I figured the police would come sometime the next day to arrest me. I figured I’d at least be called into the Dean’s office for questioning. I figured all the men who’d been at the party would be. But the police never came. And eventually, I graduated, with honors even, if you can believe that. But before then, I went to every game, watching her cheer, always looking for any look of recognition, any sign that she knew it had been me. There was never the slightest hint that she did. Nor was there any sign that she had been damaged in any way. Maybe, in her drunken state, she had absolutely no memory of the event. The statute of limitations has expired, but even if it hadn’t, I’m sure all the evidence is long-since washed away. But I still feel like I owe her something. Certainly an apology. Maybe the right to ask me “why?”, or “why me?” or “was it worth it?”--even if I can’t formulate anything close to a reasonable answer. She now sells real estate in my community. Quite successfully. I can't drive across town without seeing her still-pretty face, eyes glaring at me in living color from a dozen "For Sale" signs. It haunts me. I could certainly get her alone by feigning interest in buying a house. But how would she react when I told her? How would YOU react, Raw Ladies? See, there’s a loophole in the 12-step plan. If the apology would do her harm, then I don’t have to do it. So Raw Citizens, should I tell her? Or just forget the whole thing, so we can both just try to put the whole terrible ordeal behind us. TLDR: Reformed, recovering Rapist needs advice on how to make amends for past misdeeds.