you think you're smart enough to keep yourself out of trouble.
but then you find yourself caught in the middle of a very dangerous situation and all you can think is, "how did i let this happen?"
with just slightly altered values for one or two variables that night, i might not have been able to fight back, i might not have been able to get away in time or i might not have been able to get away at all.
i thought i was sober enough to make good (enough) decisions.
i thought i was with friends.
i thought it would never happen to me (again).
but there i was--half-naked and confused. no didn't seem to mean no to him, but i just kept repeating it. even though things weren't going my way, it didn't quite feel like i'd lost control of the situation. people play too much and go over the line a little, but they always stop.
no, they don't always stop.
he tore my shirt off and held my arms. that's when i knew he wasn't going to stop and i might not get away from him. i squirmed out of his hold but he grabbed me again and pleaded with me.
i owed it to him.
i deserved this.
no, no, no. not again.
i don't know if he would have hit me, but i don't think i could have fought him.
whoa. i didn't say i couldn't have fought him off; i said i couldn't have fought him period. that's so fucked up. it's partly because he was supposed to be my friend and i just kept telling myself that he would stop before he actually hurt me. but it's also because i was afraid of what throwing the first punch would do. what started out about sex could then turn to serious violence. is protecting my sexual purity (for lack of a better word) worth risking my life? apparently not.
but it never came to that. i wrestled myself away and i talked him out of it.
i can't believe i let it come that close to happening again. i did fucking deserve it.