I had a bit too much to drink last night. Tequila shots and pickle backs in the mix. There was dancing and slurred words with friends as I stumbled around my favorite bar. You see me and twirl me around; you make me giggle at your jokes. You’re a friend of my best friends ex, a mutual crush having begun in the fall. Moments flying by like quick flashes of light as we chat and dance. We separate and for a moment I am alone. That moment washes over me and I stand still- feeling completely and utterly alone. Two friends are still around with their arms wrapped around their loves and I’m just standing there. Feeling like I’m standing in the middle of a movie scene as the one girl surrounded by a dancing crowd, still with tears in my eyes. I ascend up the stairs out of the dirty bar I love so much, but soon a familiar voice comes up behind. It’s you. You say you want to walk me home. You want to make sure I’m safe. I refuse respectfully, admitting the lonely cold walk is one I do frequently. But you won’t take no for an answer, and soon we’re halfway to my place on our walk in the rain with me still asking you to leave. We stop in the grass and you light a cig and raindrops have made my hair frizzy. You want to have a real talk about life and so we do. We talk about your life and past and struggles and relationships and I talk about my past and my life and my assault and you hug me as you say your sister experienced the same thing. You make me feel good. And like you said, safe. Soon you are kissing me and helping me stand as I slip from the mix of my drunkenness and the mud. And I finally let you walk me home. You spend the walk continuing your life story, talking about how embarrassed you are of your friends and how they treat people-how they treat girls. You say you’ve had dibs on me for a while, regardless of your friends’ advances. You say you are different. Not like them. I believe each word coming out of your mouth whole heartedly. You walk me up my steps and soon you’re in my apartment, you’re taking off your shoes, asking which room mine is… I’m okay with it because you’re a nice guy. I say you and stay over and cuddle and kiss, those words jumbled like any other I’ve said but I know you hear them. I change into comfy clothes to sleep and suddenly you’re naked pressed up against me- you can’t sleep unless you’re naked, you say. I brush it off. Cuddling leads to kissing, your hands are wandering, you’re biting my neck too hard. The spot still hurts as I write this. I start feeling weird- I don’t really want this, but I also can’t get myself to say no. You’re taking off my clothes and I let you. I’m just lying there. Well, here. In the spot where I am writing this right now. It goes from wandering hands to your wandering tongue as you move down on me. This is the only time I said no, I didn’t feel good about that. You said it would though, I’m ok. So I shut up. And as you’re kissing me in such a private area I just cringe wishing you’d stop. So I pull your head up to me, which you take as a sign I want more. You kiss me, and suddenly you’re inside me, and I’m okay with it. It hurts, but I didn’t tell you to stop. I wanted you to get it over with. I was spinning in my head and nauseous from all the drinks- just waiting for you to be done. You were nice to me, so this is all okay, is what I tell myself. I don’t really want this, but I’ve been in worse situations, I tell myself. And in under thirty seconds you’re done leaving me with your cum on my stomach and running off to the bathroom. I feel disgusting and tears fill my eyes, but a hard swallow helps me forget that. You return with a lame excuse for needing to leave and before I can blink your clothes are on and you’re out the door. I stare up at my ceiling and those tears that approached so many times tonight come in full force. I head to my balcony, the tears streaming, taking in the fresh air. It’s not enough. I fill the tub and take a hot bath. So hot that it hurt, because feeling that took away from everything else I was feeling inside. I hold my breath underwater to try to stop crying. I wish I could just fall asleep in there. I walk naked through my apartment, pour a glass of water, and lie in the bed you were just in soaking wet. I have weird laughter moments about how all of that just happened. I’m too fragile for this. To feel so gross and used. Sex isn’t easy for me. You understood that. You listened to my stories. Told me I was safe. And still took your opportunity from me, a drunk girl who thought you were nice. By the time I wake up its almost the afternoon. Your socks are next to my bed reminding me of what had happened. The same wave of sadness and dirtiness hits me. I check and you’ve deleted me off of all social media. I laugh and cry more. I feel so dumb. So used. So naïve. I wonder when I will learn from my past. When will I wake up with a cement heart after being walked all over, lied to, played, so many times? Something I love about myself is that I always expect everyone to be nice, I see the good. But I don’t know how much longer that will last.
You didn’t cause all those tears and all this pain, you just poured salt in a long open wound. I will never say a thing to you, but I hope you learn someday. For your own sake. And don’t worry about me, I’ll be okay. And if I’m not, it has nothing to do with you.
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