Rape

I took a roadtrip to Chicago with a man I barely knew. In a shitty motel room that paid by the hour, he told me either I could have sex with him or he could leave me stranded there, three hundred miles from home. After he calmly raped me, he fell asleep with his body wrapped around my own.

Shush. I tell myself. I don't want to be one of those people where I'm told it isn't true, that I can't use the words I want.

I wanted to hurt myself and instead of cutting myself I shaved myself and that was where the warts emerged.

I cried on the floor of the shower not knowing what was wrong.

I crashed my car that week too. Blamed my sore back on that, though really, it was from being tied to that chair.

It took me three months to admit that I was hurt and she will probably never admit that what happened there was wrong.

It started off ok, but when I needed it to stop I didn't. I thought I was in love with her. But really. I was wrong.

If only I could …

Look at your face, and bring you deserved agony. Make you beg. Then torture you ever so slowly. Your pain would be my art. Your death my masterpiece. Your demise my dream.

So do it, fulfill this twisted fantasy. Look over your shoulder, and watch your back. One day will be the day, in which I get my long deserved

Revenge!

Me: What's wrong?

Her: That guy raped me.

(later)

Me: Hey, word has it you raped my friend.

Him: WHAT?! NO I DIDN'T.

Me: I believe her more than you. Just letting you know.

Him: DON'T EVER SAY THAT. I AIN'T NO RAPIST. YOU WEREN'T THERE. YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED.

Me: No, I don't know what happened. But I do know that something occurred between you two that left her feeling traumatized, and that she's still traumatized, and that instead of trying to make things right, you're just calling her a liar.

Him: BAAAUUGH I'LL KILL YOU.

Me: That won't solve your problem. The only thing you can do is to try to fix things at the source instead of walking away from your fuckup. You may not be able to do anything to make her feel any better, but as long as you're not even trying, you're still an asshole.

(then, in an alternate timeline)

Him: (fires gun)

Me: Ow. (falls to pavement)

Has anyone I love not been raped? What does that say about me?

You told me a story and I still can't get it out of my head.

Me: Someone else confessed to a rape fantasy on Ether today.
Her: Another one?
Me: It seems to be becoming more frequent. I think it's only a matter of time until that's the whole theme of the website.
Her: Honestly, I think that it's a fantasy that eighty or ninety percent of girls have.
Me: Really? Well, in that case, they should make it legal again.
Her: (laughs)
Me: No, really. And rapists everywhere should get reparations for having to pay settlements and having to serve time.
Her: (laughs)
Me: In fact, all men should just get a raping stipend from the government.
Her: (laughs)

(pause)

Me: Now I have to put this exchange up on Ether like I did when we were talking about my penis and your hair clip.
Her: Yeah, you should do it.
Me: You know, I'm surprised that with all the free talk about sex and vaginas and periods and breasts, there is zero attention to the penis. It's just kind of sitting there, lonely and underutilized.