I wasn’t forced into his room. I wasn’t held down. I laid down beside him because I trusted and loved him. I asked him not to do many of the things he did that night. With my words, as if my body language wasn’t enough. As if my wincing and moving wasn’t enough, I said no. I didn’t leave though.
I thought it was because he loved me that much. He couldn’t control himself. He wanted to be that close, that intimate. As did I, so how could I blame him? I loved him so much. How could anyone look at sex with anything other than that... love.
So I stayed I asked him to stop but was calm when he didn’t. I didn’t scream or cry. I laid there unsure of how I felt. Uncomfortable, but not threatened. I never understood how a woman could have the choice to leave and not.
But he listened enough, what was the harm. He wouldn’t cross a line I had asked him not to cross. Technically, he didn’t. At least in his mind. Mine disagrees. Because I’m haunted by the fact that I was tricked into love, that my words were ignored, that once again, I didn’t have control over my own body.
I didn’t have sex that night but my innocence was taken. My belief that someone would only push me that far because they loved me— shattered.
I watched my phone every night after that but it never lit up. Five months of silence. That’s when I knew that some humans are truly evil and some humans think sex is a game.