I trusted him. We dated for over a year but things had gone badly at the end. I ended things, and he was not happy. One day, I went over to his place to say my final goodbye and to give him all of the shirts, sweatshirts, and other trinkets he had given to me during our relationship. While I was there, he told me he had moved on and was seeing another girl. It had only been 2 weeks since we broke up, and his words pierced me in the heart and my stomach became queezy. Even though I broke up with him, I still loved him. The next thing I knew, his lips were on mine, and we were meshing like the way we had in the past. However, this time, I had a salty taste in my mouth from the tears trailing down my face. Soon, he took off my shirt, and I did not oppose. Then he took off his pants followed by my pants. This time was different from the times before. He got on top of me and forced himself inside of me without warning. There was no foreplay or any fun. It was him on top of me as he thrust into me. I felt as if I was being teared apart. The pain was worse than my first time with him. I continued to cry, I told him to stop, I told him he was hurting me, but he kept going. I asked him why? Why was he doing this to me? He responded in an ice cold tone that he wanted to get me out of his system, and that after this, he never wanted to see me again. Once he had finished, I grabbed my clothes, ran to the bathroom, and then out of his house. I did not turn back to look on this event for months. I didn't let it enter my mind. He was a person I loved. That couldn't be rape, could it?