I was raped.
There. I said it.
It's taken me a while to admit that. For a long time, I wouldn't believe it. It wasn't rape. It wasn't a stranger. It wasn't in a dark alleyway. I wasn't drugged.
I didn't want to do it - but that didn't make it rape..right?
It was rape.
He knew what he was doing. He heard me. I definitely said it - more than once. Stop. No. Don't. It's all a blur, really, but I remember the look in his eyes. I remember his words - or lack thereof, in this case. 'Ssh'.
He didn't want me to speak. I was ruining the moment for him, protesting like that. He knew it was wrong. And still, he did it.
I don't know where to go from here. I wonder if he knows how much he ruined my life. I wasn't the happiest girl in the world before that night, but now there's something missing. The hope that everything will be alright.
I'm not sure why I'm writing this. I guess it's because it's the only way I can talk about it. Anonymously.