12/12/2018
21h50

My heart aches. I’m so angry and so torn. A part of me feels ashamed, guilty and even humiliated. I want to hide and start over. I feel disgusting and used. I’m judging myself so harshly for finding myself in this type of situation. I should have known better. A part of me believes I deserved it, I deserve to feel this way if I believed someone I thought so highly of could see me as even remotely equivalent. I feel deep shame, such immense deep shame. The things that were said are ones I can’t seem to remove from my mind. A part of me thinks I’m a huge wimp. “He didn’t mean it” I repeat to myself. “Why are you so torn up over something so small, you’re so dramatic and deserved this, move the fuck on.” Why do I keep replaying that night over and over in my head?

I’m heartbroken over the friend who has picked sides, and doesn’t seem to realize it. “But you’re not a victim” she said to me. The thing is, I’m still trying to figure out if I’m a victim or not, so how can she sit there without having seen that side of the person we both know. I’m so angry. I know it wasn’t my fault, but I feel sick. Did he mean to? He was drinking a lot. When he asked me if I had slept with someone else, in his defense I had been saying no for the last 6 months. Of course it was a shock for him. But I can’t do anything, he’s in law school and has worked so hard. It was just a mistake.

And so, what if he said and did those things?

Maybe he didn’t mean those things, but either way, aren’t they true? I’ve already thought of myself the way he did that night, so it must be the truth. The only reason it hurt is because I had someone I admired so much, verbalize some of the harshest things I had already thought of myself. “But I don’t think that was a mark he could’ve left on anyone else, your iron being low must’ve caused that bruising.” she says. I know it isn’t. I forgive him, but not myself. It’s so hard to want and resent someone at the same time. Did he know what he was doing? No, there’s no way he’d risk something like his career out of simple unnecessary jealousy. Maybe it’s because he trusted me so much, he lost control because he knows how much respect I have for him, how much I lack judgement in his character. So maybe it’s a good thing, he did that because I’m such a kind person. But why did he show me so much affection after he said such nasty things? He knew what he was doing. Why else would things seemingly go back to normal and then he’d spew such nasty comments to my face again? Why is it he kissed my back and held my hand after his fist hit my chest? I wish I knew. But it’s not his fault, he was drinking and is going through so much. I’m sure law school is immensely stressful.

“Are you sure it wasn’t from sex?” she says. My mind snaps into the moment in time where we were laying there, and his voice started to raise. “I can’t believe you cheated on me” he says. “who was it?” he repeats, every time his tone getting firmer. I become more aware of the fact I’m not wearing anything. I feel more exposed as his voice gets louder. Though I paralyzed with fear, I know he’s being ridiculous and is lacking logic. “Who was it?” he demands. In seconds his arm and fist lay across my chest, his weight pressing down on me more. He keeps asking, and I reply the same. Hit. One hard hit across my chest, I stare at him. “It’s none of your business” I say softly. He rolls over, and I feel nothing. “Does it help if I say it’s an ex? And not a random person?” I ask. “Yes” he replies. But I’m lying, I can’t risk making him uncomfortable by telling him who it was, honesty so far has upset him. The kisses down my back throw me into bliss, and his hands intertwined with mine soothe the craving of intimacy I have longed for weeks. “No, it wasn’t during sex” I say to her when snapping back to the present moment. “Why didn’t you call someone?” she asks.

I’m putting on my boots, and his jacket. I love the way this jacket looks on him, it suits him so well. My hair is wet from the shower, the shower where we had rough anal sex after I told him I didn’t want to do it because of the immense pain it had caused last time. However, that’s what he wanted, and I had already upset him so deeply, so the least I could do was that. I run out to get my phone in the car, maybe if I had had my phone in the room with us, it would’ve rang during our argument, then I wouldn’t need to explain myself to anyone, or type out how I feel.

I vividly remember the passion and attraction he had showed me while I made room in the car earlier that night. “Stop!” I giggled. “You’re going to be a lawyer, you can’t feel me up in public” I whispered. I loved it. I felt so proud to be desired, out in the open by the guy I adored and dreamed of a future with. “I don’t give a fuck” he says with a perfect smirk. “You smell so good, I missed you.” he says when he gets back into the car. The second we walked through my front door; his beautiful strong arms lifted me up as he pressed me up against the wall. He always made me feel so feminine, dainty and wanted. I wish I had known that the strength he has would keep me up at night for the following weeks.

But its just one encounter, an accident, so what is my problem? Why can’t I let it go? He was drunk, he had a rough go, it’s a one-time thing, poor guy. He must be so embarrassed, that’s why he deleted me off all social media. Or its because it was the logical thing to do, he’s almost a lawyer, it’s just a way to preserve himself. What if it happened because I mean a lot to him? That’s obviously why he was jealous. That must be it. Maybe we have a future together if he cares about me that much, if he risked it all with impulse. That can’t be it, it’s just one hit, that’s not enough for me to mean something to him. I was so readily available to him, of course I was used. I was asking to be used by being so accommodating. He must be hurting. But why am I alone and still hurt, while he seemingly remains okay and unphased? I must’ve deserved it. He has too much to lose, I don’t. Is that worth picking sides though? I’d pick his side too, I can’t be mad at that friend. But I didn’t want anyone to pick a side, I was ready to pretend it never happened. I deserved it, I allowed it to happen. It makes sense. But why me?