My first kiss: Tipsy in a movie theater, you groped me then shoved your slimy tongue deep in my mouth. At least you said I was a good kisser.
Oral: You forced yourself down my throat while I gagged and choked. Even your friend in the other room asked if everything was ok.
Sex: Do you remember that one? I don’t.
I was blackout drunk. You were sober. We had talked about how I wasn’t ready for sex, but you decided it didn't matter.
I woke up alone in your baggy gym clothes without underwear on the floor of your media room. My first thought was, “uh oh did I throw up last night? Wait, why do I have rug burns on my elbows and knees?” One foggy memory flooded back in to haunt me.
“Shh stop squirming and be still.”
I obeyed. A sudden pain was followed by darkness.
You fulfilled my romantic fantasies the next morning when you handed me a bottle of water and told me to sneak out before your parents woke up.
“Did we have sex last night?” I blurted. “You don’t remember? We’ll talk later.” Numb, I didn’t react.
We met in a CVS parking lot where you gave me roses and apologized. I made you buy Plan B. I saved the box as a memento until we broke up…a year later. I don’t know why I stayed. Every time you said you loved me, it felt tainted, but I still wanted to believe you. If you loved me, why would you hurt me?
I made excuses for you. You were a good boyfriend for waiting that long. Maybe you made it up so I’d have sex with you in the future. Denial. I shouldn’t have gotten that drunk in the first place. Guilt.
When we had sex, I hated you so much that it made me feel nauseated. Worse, I hated myself. If I tried to say no, you pleaded, “c’mon, I’ll be fast.” Sometimes it felt easier to just get it over with. Isn’t that what good girlfriends do?
No. My body is not your playground.
Initially, I hesitated to use the R-word. I dismissed my experience as not traumatic enough because I don’t remember it. However, you affected me in ways that I am still trying to understand. I struggle to trust and depend on people because I am afraid their promises will be as empty as yours. I let you treat me like trash, but I am not disposable. You do not determine my value.
I still think of you daily, but maybe this will finally help me let go.