Every two minutes, someone in the US is sexually assaulted.
This is her story.
It's not that I didn't know it was wrong.
It was that there was, is, and will always be, something about him that draws me in. In many ways, he completes me; understands me so well. That will never be enough to outweigh that he is an emotionally controlling alcoholic.
In the back of my mind I knew I shouldn't have gone to his house, but his dog was sick, and he made me feel terrible for leaving him alone dealing with it. He said he was lonely. He said he had no one else.
I'm a smart girl. I knew that's exactly how he kept tabs on me, but somehow I just couldn't tell him no because I knew the resulting shitstorm would bury me.
At first it was just standing in the kitchen talking. Pleasant. Cordial. Amiable. Then, like always, he started doing shots. Then, like always, he started pressuring me to do some too. Then, like always, he drank me under the table.
I found a blanket and curled up on the couch to fall asleep. A 5'-7" girl who drinks only occasionally will never be able to keep up with a 6' man who has been binge drinking for 20 years.
After a few minutes, he came and woke me up and sent me upstairs to sleep in his bed. He said he didn't want me to have to sleep on the couch. I feel asleep almost immediately. Before that night it never occurred to me that anything would happen.
I woke up with him on top of me with his penis and testicles bared in my face.
I kicked him off of me. Again. Again. Again. He is so much bigger than me. I could feel my body responding even though my mind was appalled. Feeling more and more numb in my drunken haze, I gave in. I wouldn't let him kiss me or my breasts or any part of me. That made him mad. Afterward, I got up, put my clothes on, walked back down to the couch, and fell asleep.
When I woke up, he was on the floor asleep in front of the couch saying he didn't want me to feel alone. Saying he was terrified our friendship was over.
What friendship? I wanted to ask. We don't have a friendship. We didn't have a friendship. He said he was scared he would lose me, that I was invaluable to him and he couldn't live without me at least in his life.
Then why did you ever break up with me? Couldn't have been that important.
He went on and on, postulating, guilting me into responding, reassuring HIM nothing was wrong. I called in sick to work that day. I bought Plan B and five days later had the worst menstrual cramps of my life.
Even now, he sends me messages telling me about pretty girls that flirt with him and beautiful women he sees. He intermittently sends me messages saying he loves me and wishes we were together. Every time I have no say no, my heart breaks a little bit more.
Was it rape? Some days I'm sure it was. Others, I'm sure it wasn't.
If I still wonder after all this time, it must have been something.
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