He was my best friend, not my boyfriend or crush. My best friend. He was the one who understood me and my troubled mind.
Insomnia was on my list of issues and as usual, I took my medication, thinking it was like any other sleepover. I remember bits and pieces. Him groping me. The sounds he made, the grunts and moans that he made, that I can still hear clearly to this day. Him shoving my face into the bed, as I lay there, trying to wrap my fogged thoughts around what he was doing to me.
After he was finished with me, he made it his life's mission to taint my name and spread vicious rumors about me, turning everyone away from me. Going above and beyond to manipulate and ruin me, more than just my body, but my mind and self confidence.
The thought of telling someone scared me to death. Not only would no one believe me, but the thought of having to actually admit that he had raped me, was too much.
For years, I was in denial, so manipulated and abused, so much so that I actually thought that it was my fault. That somehow I wanted it.
All until one day it just clicked that what he did to me was unacceptable. So I walked away from him and everyone that I associated with him. I remember crying, not from sadness, but pure joy. I was free. Free of him, the thoughts that followed the incident, the pain. All of it gone because I finally realized my worth.