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[justalittlesubtle-blog]

rape.

I've been a “victim” of this several times. By a stranger, by a best friend, and by a lover. I’m sharing my story to hopefully open some people’s minds as to what rape actually is. How it can be so diguised, how prevailent it is, how so many people blow it off, and how many more accept it as normal. it isn't always some vagrant who catches you in a dark alley, pulls your clothes off, beats you up, and starts to penetrate you. rape comes in many shapes and forms and from so many different types of people. the handsome guy you had a crush on, the dude next door, your parent’s friend, your boss, your employee, the man sitting next to you on a bar stool, the girl you danced with one night, your best friend, and even your partner.

rape: defined by me, is simply engaging in sexual intercourse and or sexual acts with someone who does not consent; and/or with someone who is intoxicated and therefore can not make a rational decision.

I guess I will start my story with the most gruesome account. I was alone at a bar in midtown Manhattan. I asked the bartender for some sheets of paper, because I felt ultra introverted and wanted to write my thoughts down that night, but didn't have my journal with me. I began jotting down my thoughts on a piece of paper with my glass of Jameson on the rocks that was accompanying me. A man, probably in his early to mid 50′s sat next to me and sparked up a conversation with me. He looked exactly like William H. Macy, only fatter and wore glasses. I remember him telling me he was an accountant from out of town and was in Manhattan for a business trip. I was barely listening, just wanting to be by myself and wanting to write, although I engaged in a bit of small talk until my glass was empty and I began to slide off the bar stool with intentions of heading home. He offered to buy me another drink, and I accepted his offer. That’s it. that's all I remember.

next thing I know, my face is buried into a pillow. my arms are restrained behind me and I see red. I LITERALLY SEE THE COLOR RED. I'm in an indescribable amount of pain, He is brutally raping me anally. I panic and begin to scream. His lips touch my ears as he says, “if you scream again, I’ll break your fucking arm.” Nothing inside of me is ready to give up, and the only thing I can do is shit on him...and I did. He punches me in the back of my head and gets up, running to the bathroom. my plan actually worked. I pull my shorts up, grab my bag that I see next to the bed and exit the room. screaming as I run down the hall. he doesn't follow me. 

at this point, I have shit and blood running down my legs. I run out of the hotel room and jump into the first yellow cab I see. I’m shaking, crying uncontrollably. The cabibe actually lets me climb into the front seat and smoke a cigarette. This is unheard of with taxi drivers. I tell him my address and he brings me home. 

when I get home, I run to my roommate’s room. He and his girlfriend have no idea what happened but cuddled me and called my best friend. My room mate’s girlfriend helps me shower, at this point, I'm still insanely intoxicated, barely able to speak, all I could do was shiver and cry. 

this went on for almost two weeks. I laid in bed, staring at my brick wall and didn't go to work. I didn't eat, but I drank and chained smoked cigarettes. laying in bed for days. feeling empty. no thoughts. no emotions. just complete and utter nothingness.

I bounced back somehow. started dating this really sweet guy who absolutely adored me. he was funny and fun to be around. everyone loved him but everyone that knew him, also knew he had severe OCD. he couldn't drink out of plastic containers, the lighting in every room had to be just right, he had a list of mundane and absurd tasks to perform before he left the house, and what no one knew except the person that dated him was that he had to cum at least 4x’s a day.

I was left with this burden, of having to satisfy his craving. anytime I said no, he would push on and on until I got tired of saying no. He took it as a rejection and made me feel guilty. he would say things like, you’re so sexually adventurous (and I was) so why can't we have sex. like being adventurous sexually means you want to have sex all day every day. he guilted me into sex and wore me down until, I’d turn over on my stomach pull my pants down and wish it’d be over as soon as possible. he made me tell him about sleeping with other people while we were having sex, even after I told him that made me feel uncomfortable. when I put my foot down and said no because I was tired or just didn't want to, he would jack off and cum in my face without my permission. most of the time while I was asleep

That was our relationship. on and off for almost 3 years.

it was rape.

The worst, or I guess the most painful case was with someone I considered to be my best friend. We were so close and platonic for so long...and then, we started having casual sex. He just got out of a relationship and so did I, and we thought we could be mature enough to sleep with one another and maintain a friendship. He eventually started dating someone and to be honest I was full of jealousy because of it. we continued to sleep together even though he was with someone. she knew about our past and I guess to make her feel more secure, he began to treat me like shit in front of her and in front our mutual friends, as soon as someone looked away he’d say seductive things, put my hand on his cock, force his tongue down my throat. and I was stupid enough to fall for the bullshit. Then the sex got rougher and scarier. he would choke me until I almost fainted. slap me so hard that left bruises covering my body, and shoving his penis into my ass, without permission, and so hard I let out the most guttural scream. the type of scream that only comes from being so severely hurt. hurt, not only physically, but hurt because I knew his intentions were to cause me pain. I knew he knew I didn't want to continue this charade, but he forced me into it. over and over again. I said no. until I was tired of saying no, and just let it happen to me.

it was rape.

I have more even more stories to tell. not all of them are about men. yes, rape and molestation are crimes that women partake in as well. 

what I hope people will take from this, is to not be ashamed of being a rape victim. I want those of you who have endured abuse, to not hide it, to speak about it, and to share your stories.