The numbness had infiltrated every part of my day. That night I went to sleep- a deep, heavy disturbed sleep. I was trying to escape from my reality. Plus my brain had been working overtime trying to process what hd happened- making me relive the rape. Him forcing himself inside me. Me covering my vagina to keep him from penetrating me. It not working. Him cumming like some creepy spoof movie, as if he wasnt even having sex with me- just my hole. The look of sheer pleasure as he won, getting to put himself inside me, not actually having an intimate encounter with me. Only adding another notch to his belt.
I shivered with disgust. The experience was revolting.
Through out the day following the rape, my ex texted me like he normally did. We had become best friends really, over the last few months. Truthfully, we were great friends from the day we met. While I knew I could not ignore him because he would only get more concerned, I tried to minimize what happened, keeping all the answers to his texts short. Closed. Cold.
Can I still come over and check on you tonight?
Sure. Do whatever you want. Im home tonight.
In numbness the day passed slowly. I put my son to bed a little early that night. My ex texted me saying he was coming over. Wow, he's really coming over? I figured he would have given up by now. Or forgotten about me. Or have put in his sympathy enough to earn his way out of seeing me. I texted him saying the door was unlocked so he could just walk in. It was a way I could avoid looking him in the eyes. If he looked me in the eyes, he would see, and I would struggle not to cry.
About 15 minutes later, I heard his motorcycle drive up. A couple tears fell out of my eyes, but I quickly wiped them away and got myself back under control. I did not want him to see me cry.
Hey. You doing ok?
Yup.
What happened?
I don't know. He seemed so nice and polite. But he was not quite my type. So in the end, I thought we could just cuddle- that's what we agreed on. That even if we didn't like each other, we could at least cuddle. I laid down to cuddle him and the next thing I know he started taking my clothes off. I tried to stop him, I even covered my vagina with both hands, but he tricked me to move my hands so he could penetrate me. I tried telling him no for over half an hour. He wouldn't listen. I didn't even enjoy it. And the worst part is the way he came. It makes me want to vomit just thinking about it. He came like the guys in the movies all crazy loud and over dramatic.
Are you ok?
No, but I'll be fine.
I'm sorry he did this to you.
Choking back a sob and a tear, I quickly recomposed myself. Thanks, but it isn't your fault.
What can I do to help you?
What? Again, choking back an audible sob, I had to work to control myself. After composing myself, i took a deep breath. Would you just hold me and tell me everything is going to be ok?
Yes.
And there we sat on my couch like so many other times before. We always had a connection. At times like this, I tried desperately, but could not deny it. He held me tightly and I put my head in the crook of his neck. Even though I struggled to control my sobs, I let my tears fall. They soaked into his shirt, making a large wet spot that I realized he was beginning to feel. Until now, I had not cried.
We sat in silence. He held me tighter and tighter. It made me feel safe. It was the first time I felt safe since it happened. Finally he reached over and sat me in his lap so he could hug me tighter. Sobs finally escaped from me because I was safe enough to cry. But i made sure I did it quietly. This was not his problem.
Finally, I couldnt take it any longer, plus my nose was getting runny. I pushed myself out of his grasp and walked away coldly to blow my nose.
After I composed myself I sat down next to him again.
Are you ok?
What he did made me feel so disgusting. I cant stop thinking about it. I feel so worthless. But I dont understand why you are here. What do you care?
You know I care about you.
Ha! yeah- you care about me so much. What you meant to say was that youve gone 2 weeks without getting any and you are so glad that I am yours for the taking again.
That's not true.
Tell me it isnt.
It isnt.
That's a bunch of crap. Otherwise you would have made me your girlfriend.
Thats different.
No it isnt.
Everyone already thinks you are my girlfriend.
Everyone but you. The most important person.
Come on, It's nothing like that.
I dont know what's worse, some guy, basically a stranger, treating me like I'm just his personal fuck or you not caring enough to make me your girlfriend, coming over here pretending to care. You dont give a crap about me. You just want to get laid.
That's not why I am here. You know I care about you.
No. I dont. And I'm not saying that because of what happened. What happened happened because I did not think you cared about me, otherwise I would not have started dating again.
Come on. You know I care.
I feel so disgusting.
You arent.
But I FEEL disgusting.
With that he began to touch me delicately, gently. I couldn't help but start to cry again, unable to keep the tears from falling, I sat there instead rigid, numb, and with my eyes closed. I did not want him to see me frail. I reached for him and he again hugged me in silence, simply holding me. This time I put my face in the crook of his neck. As the moments ticked by the animalistic attraction we always had for each other became unbearable with our lips so close to each other. He knelt his head down to kiss me, but stopped before he could kiss me. Closing the gap, I met his lips.
We kissed so sweetly. He kissed me like I was the only girl in the world, and it made me feel like I for a second there I was actually worth something. The kiss became incredibly passionate. Short of saying he was making love to me, he kissed me passionately deep into my soul. His kiss spoke more about his gentle concern for me, than any of his words would ever be able to convey. He stroked my hair and held my body as if protecting me, holding me up against the weight of the world.
When the long, beautiful kiss ended, I got up and pushed him away.
You cant have sex with me. Im disgusting. That guy defiled me.
Theres nothing disgusting about you.
Look, what he did made me feel horrible. I cant get over this feeling of how disgusting I feel. Im revolted by my own skin. If it could crawl right off my body, it would.
You are a wonderful person. You are not disgusting.
I FEEL disgusting.
With that, he got up and closed the distance between us. touching the small of my back, stroking my hair behind one ear so I could not hide behind it like I was trying to do, he cradled my chin, and looked me in the eye.
You are not disgusting. You are not worthless.
I had to close my eyes to hide the pain of what he was saying to me. Not because what he was saying hurt me, but because how I felt warred against what he was saying. And that's when it broke me. There was nothing protecting me from him anymore. I was completely at his mercy.
Will you do me a favor?
Sure, What?
Will you have sex with me right now? And even if I start crying, will you keep going until its over?
Sure.
Look- I cant stop thinking about what happened. I need a new memory so I can forget what happened. So I can think about something else.
Ok.
But you might have to take it slow or even stop a few times.
Whatever you need. Just tell me.
And if I start screaming, please just ignore it. Or if I start crying.
He simply nodded, looking into both my eyes with concern.
He helped me to my room because I was suddenly very weak. I froze as we started to undress.
Help me. I cant take them off.
He very slowly and sweetly helped me remove my clothes with some extra effort because I had frozen and my body fought in its own way to keep the clothes on- by not cooperating.
I started to cry. No. Im disgusting. You dont want to have sex with me.
Stop. You are not disgusting.
What if he gave me something. Maybe we should wait until I go get tested.
Stop. And with that he went to touching me sweetly. Kissing me passionately.
Help me to the bed. I had to ask him to help me walk the 10 steps to the bed because my whole body was revolting against what was happening. And he did. Every move was smooth, strong, gentle and deliberate. Even though he was guiding me and supporting me, when I pushed back or stopped completely, he slowed down until I could get my body to move- that way I was in control and he wasn't forcing me- only helping me.
He layed me down on my bed. We were naked and we just kissed for a minute or two. As I began to relax, I took a deep breath and said, ok. Looking into his eyes, I nodded.
As he penetrated me, I began to relive the rape. Tears welled in my eyes, but I struggled to maintain relaxation in my body, to regulate my breathing to a slow and deep normal breath rate. He never stopped kissing me. Every once in a while a sob would escape.
As my ex penetrated me, I remembered fighting to keep the date raper from penetrating me. And even reliving part of my first rape, the memory of my stepbrother pulling my legs apart and forcing his way in. But sex with my ex felt totally different. It made me feel valued and wanted, not trashy. I held on to his skin as if desperate to be wanted. I was completely vulnerable with him. Over and over again the details from both rapes played in my mind, but as the minutes went by, they faded away until it was just me having gentle, sweet sex with a partner. Eventually I was able to orgasm. It took me quite a while, but he made sure I orgasm a few times before he did.
Afterwards I just layed in his arms and sobbed. He lay there in my bed and held me until the crying stopped.
Thank you. I couldnt get that disgusting sensation of his body off of me. I couldnt stop feeling it. You just helped me more than you will ever understand. Thank you.
I layed in his arms, in my tear soaked sheets, holding him as tightly as I could until I drifted to sleep. He lay with me all night.
I will never be able to repay what he did for me that day. What he did made my life bearable. I was able to recover very quickly after that. I shied away from dating anyone else. Within a few months, we got back together- this time becoming officially girlfriend/boyfriend. Our relationship was sweet and nice, passionate and fun. Before he left for Kuwait, he admitted he loved me and wanted me to marry him and have his children. I moved to Texas, to his next duty station, in anticipation of his return from Kuwait, to make a life with him. I had never trusted or cared for anyone as much as I did him.
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