Can’t move on

It’s my fault right? I chose to drink alcohol, and I chose to say yes after saying no a hundred times before. “It’ll be alright, you’ll do it if you love me.” I was 15. I told you I didn’t want to but you talked me into it. You told everyone that I’m the crazy one, that I couldn’t possibly remember it right because I was drunk. Two years later I still have nightmares and the videos to haunt me. You got to move on with no repercussions, but I’m left with scars that I can’t help but think are my fault. I wish you knew how it felt.