i feel as if i should write about what happened to me two
weeks ago. not because i want people to read, not because i
want sympathy but for my own sake, so that i can stop
telling myself that it never happened.
it wasn't rape.. but it wasn't consentual either. it had
become a terrible friday night ritual between my former
boyfriend and i. we had broken up in september and we were
both facing very new lives. so we decided that we would
remain friends, as to help each other through the new
expiriences. however, with the added stress of our new
situations we found ourselves not being friends but rather
each others sexual comfort. after three weeks of this, we
both discovered that as much as we enjoyed this, it was
becoming an animal act and had no thought behind it. so we
decided to stop everything. in a weak moment, we both
decided that maybe we could get together on a friday night
in his apartement and just be friends. unfortunately,
alcohol got the best of both of our judgements and we
started what had become a ritualistic act. i said no, and i
was recieved with an agressive no and met with a hand on my
shoulder pushing me into his bed. he passed out afterwards.
i was so taken back and hurt that i sat in his room for
three hours crying and thinking.
the next day, i told him what had happened.
and now we are friends again. just friends. but i find
myself very torn between letting him be there for me and
seeing the same guy that had raped me.
i want to be friends with him, but i can't help but think..