Special Man and I continue to stay connected.  I am safe and I am loved and my heart remains open.  I am happy and hopeful, and I am ready to share what I’ve learned about myself and my poly.

Stay tuned.  

I said no.

I said it more than once.  I said it quietly, to a man who said he loved me.  I choked it out louder, through tears as he ripped into me, and then the pain made me mute. It took everything I had for me to say it again.

No.

There were a lot of other words then.  Stop. Get off. You’re hurting me.

And the man, who said the sun rose and set with me, who said I was an angel, who said I was going to marry him and give him babies, replied, NO.

And he didn’t stop.

When it was over, I called the front desk for new sheets to replace the blood soaked bedding.  When the boy working room service came fifteen minutes later I smiled, so he wouldn’t  know I had just been raped.

The man and I went out for food because he was hungry. It was hard to walk. It hurt to sit. I was ashamed of myself because I had allowed him to take my virginity, and now I was ruined.

He was proud.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today I read an essay about rape.  I wept, and I wrote.

I’ve never used the word rape before.  Not really. I always said “a kind of date-rape thing” when asked about my first time and then I changed the subject as fast as I could.   I always felt horrible about it, and I tried to forget. 

You don’t forget.