For something that I have been afraid to do for months, that last post was surprisingly easy to write. Probably because I know that no one really reads this. Also, there was nothing in that last one I haven't hashed over and had to explain/write out about a million times. This one, however, has been rough. Hard to start and harder to put into words.
So after a fairly dull, low key night out, my next morning was pretty monumental. I woke up to an alarm clock. I reached around, feeling for it. I finally found it but it wasn't the alarm clock I was used to, so I didn't know how to turn it off. I hit it a few times and finally covered it with a t-shirt (or a towel or something) that I found on the floor. This dulled the noise enough, but at this point I was awake.
I was light headed, but not hung-over feeling. Still, I was dizzy enough to feel all kinds of fucked up. I looked around the room and realized that I didn't know where I was. I was in a bed on the floor and I was naked. I looked over to see whose bed I was in and my stomach sank the moment I saw the mess of knotted blond man hair on the pillow next to me. I think I started yelling. I know that I was making enough of a scene to wake the blond guy up. I kept saying over and over "I need to get home to my boyfriend. How could I not have gone home?" I rushed around the room collecting my clothing. I couldn't find my bra so I began yelling about that. After a few minutes of panicked searching, I threw on my shirt and left without it.
I found my way to the front door of the house I was in and left as quickly as possible. I expected to be in the middle of town, near the dive bar, a block from home. I looked around and had no idea where I was. The road I was on looked familiar to me, but I couldn't place exactly where I was. There was a traffic light at the nearest visible intersection so I decided to walk towards it. I shuffled frantically through my purse in search of my phone. I wanted to call Ty, but didn't even know what I would say to him. I was confused and overwhelmed with guilt. I had let myself loose control to the point of blacking out and unintentionally fucked up everything Ty and I had worked so hard to rebuild. What was worse was that I did it for nothing. Not only did my actions of the night before benefit no one, I couldn't even remember them. I was sore in all the wrong places, so I was aware that I had slept with someone, but not one gory detail of the act stuck in my head.
As I got to the traffic light I realized where I was. I was more than a mile away from home, and from the last point I remembered being at the night before. My head was swimming, scrambling to recall any trace of how I had gotten there. I called Em, hoping for answers but only got her voicemail. I called Bea next. No response there either. I called a handful of other people before my college roommate, and one of my closest friends, finally returned my call. I got about two words in before red flags went off and she immediately became concerned. She thought something didn't seem right and that I had obviously been taken advantage of. Not knowing what had happened, I didn't really take what she had said seriously. I wrote this off as her being a good, supportive friend and just saying what would be the option that would make me look best. Not long into the conversation, Bea chimed in. She had stayed at a friend's house in town and offered to come pick me up.
When Bea and her friend reached me, I had made it to Main st., was without a jacket (it was warm the night before) or a bra, and it was starting to snow. I was freezing and looked like some pathetic, abandoned orphan. I got in the car and tried to explain what I could. They had drank a considerable amount more than I had and barely even recalled my leaving the night before. I was embarrassed and told them that I didn't know if I had slept with the guy or not, even though I was fairly certain that I had. They both said, "This happens." "Don't worry about it. We all have nights like this." I don't. Sitting in the back of the car, I noticed that my elbow was throbbing. It was dirty and scraped raw. The top of my right foot was in a similar state, and there were bits of leaves, twigs, and rocks wedged inside my shoes. I could smell old saliva and cigarettes and was ashamed to realize that this smell was coming from my face and neck.
I rode with Bea to her friend's house where we had breakfast and watched TV for a few hours. Shortly after eating, I received a text message from a number I didn't recognize. It read "i found your bra." Clearly this was from the blond guy. I replied "okay." Over the next hour, the following conversation occurred via text (with improved spelling and punctuation to make things more readable):
Blond Guy: did i fall or something last night?
Me: i have no idea. i don't remember anything from last night
Blond Guy: haha gotta love nights like those
Blond Guy: did (insert other guy's name) leave you an angry message too
Me: no. i don't think so
Blond Guy: oh he left me a few. he sounded really pissed
Me: why?
Blond Guy: because of what happened in the bathroom of the dive
Me: what happened in the bathroom?
Blond Guy: you guys had sex...
Me: no we didn't
Blond Guy: yeah you did. but it's all cool as long as that's not something you do all the time
Me: what's not something I do all the time?
Blond Guy: sleep with 2 guys in one night
I nervously checked my voicemail and found two angry, threatening messages from the guy who apparently fucked me in the bathroom. I didn't really listen to them for content, the fact that they existed was enough for me at that point. I wanted to cry but I couldn't. I couldn't focus enough to be upset enough to cry. I called my college friend back. Before I could even tell her the second part of my lost night, she told me that she had a phone number for me. It was for a rape hotline. Even though I thought she was overreacting by taking that idea so seriously, I have to admit it did cross my mind. I explained what I had learned through my texting session and she became insistent that I at least call and talk to someone. I felt uncomfortable and got off the phone with her as quickly as possible.
Then Ty called. He sounded angry. He asked where I had been. I said that I had stayed with friends of Bea's. He asked when I would be home. I said soon. So, I nervously hitched a ride back to Ty's.
I walked in the door of Ty's apartment and his roommate, and our mutual best friend, bolted out the door as quickly as possible, anticipating the intense discussion that was about to ensue. Ty was sitting on the couch. I sat down on the love seat next to him. He asked what happened the night before and I said I didn't know. He asked me where I spent the night. I said I didn't know. I can only assume that I must have looked like something horrible happened to me. Ty informed me later that I never took my coat off the entire time I was at his apartment, and that I kept my hands buried deep in the pockets of the coat. I don't remember this detail. He asked me if I fucked someone. I said I thought so, and that it might have been more than one person. Ty left the room and punched a hole in his wall. He came back out and asked me a million questions. I told him what I knew but that wasn't much. I just remember repeating "I don't know" for almost every answer. He seemed upset, but never once mad. Not mad at me anyway. I started to cry a little. I apologized. I said that I should leave. He explained that he wanted me to do what I thought I had to do, but that I didn't have to leave. I changed my pants (with coat still on), packed up my things, packed up my bunny, and packed my car. He walked me out to my car and said that he would call me. I asked if things were over between us, he stated that he didn't know what things were. He kissed me and I left.
My drive back home was the type were every 30 miles or so you stop and realize that you don't remember the last chunk of your trip. Where you don't even remember if you were paying attention to the road or not and it's scary because you feel like you could have caused a million accidents, but you didn't. When I got of the thruway I had to pull over. I was feeling dizzy again. It almost felt like I wasn't getting enough oxygen to my brain, panic attack style. I sat for a moment, taking deep breaths. It didn't really help. I received a phone call from a friend who I had been trying to reach most of the morning. He is essentially the male version of me so I was counting on him to help me hash over the previous 24 hours. He isn't ever really shaken up by anything. He didn't seem shocked by these events, but was able to recognize that something wasn't right. I was using his reaction as a gauge of how freaked out I should be. I remained moderately spooked.
After I got home I unpacked the bunny and wanted to get cleaned up. I was too exhausted to stand for an entire shower so I took a bath. I was right in the middle of washing my hair when the phone rang. I don't know why, but I decided to answer it, soap on hands and all. It was Ty. He asked what I was doing and I told him that I was right in the middle of shampooing my hair. Tyler told me that the moment I left he began trying to figure out what had happened. He had looked into drug facilitated sexual assault and that I was pretty much the poster child for being date raped. Even more, one of the signs for being raped was repeatedly washing your hair (although I think that was just a coincidence). I really couldn't agree or disagree with him.
I got out of the tub and started prepping for bed. It was at this point that I noticed the bruises. The insides of my thighs were sore, and looked like they were starting to turn black and blue. I had a series of small, round bruises on one shoulder that resembled fingerprints. The other shoulder had one large bruise starting to form across the top and hurt more and more as the day went on. The top of my head was a little swollen and achy. I also remembered that I had a strange pen mark that went across my hip, below where my underwear would be. I wanted to ignore all of these things. I was exhausted and incapable of concentrating on any one thing enough for it to make sense. So, I pulled Ixorstix's cage close to the couch, turned on the TV and went to sleep.
No comments:
Post a Comment