You Raped Me

(He'll know who this is about)

I was surfing the web aimlessly. My brain is completely fried. My nerves are worn.

I stumbled on a picture of you. I don't know how I ended up there. But there you were.

My chest tightened and clenched.

My breathing shortened.

I thought I was over you. I thought I'd forgiven and moved forward.

I know why I launched into a panic attack.

You raped me.

You stupid son of a bitch, YOU. RAPED. ME.

"baby shush. If you loved me you'd do it."

I'm too drunk.

"Oh hush baby... if you loved me..."

I don't want to.

As you pulled on my night gown. "Oh baby baby"

But I don't want to.

"Shhh. C'mon now. If you loved me..."

I do love you. Why this? I'm not in the mood.

"C'mon now baby. If you want this to work out, you'll do it for me..."

I do want us to work out. I do love you.
I'm Niddah.
I don't want to.
I'm drunk.
I had a bad day.
I'm not in the mood.

You did it anyway.

YOU. RAPED. ME.

You know why I didn't go to the cops? They already told me that being beaten to within an inch of my life, being forced on the floor and held down while a man violently assaulted me, that going to the hospital right away and reporting it, getting photographed and having my character torn apart on the stand.... that wasn't rape.

Why would they ever think what you did was rape?

But it was. I knew it was rape the moment I stood in the shower trying to take off my skin... skin that you touched the night before. I scrubbed until I bled. I washed my nightgown. I put the birthday cake away. I got dressed for work.

You raped me.

I tried to talk to you about it. I tried to tell you what you did. I wanted so much for you to fall to your knees and apologize and tell me you shouldn't have forced me.

But.

You threw things at me. You came home from work and called me names and threw things at me. You told me I was a liar and to take it back. You said you never could do that and I was a psycho. You said I was a common whore and I didn't deserve to lick the dirt off your boot.

It was my birthday.

You raped me on my fucking birthday.

After you threw me out of OUR home for telling you that you raped me....

After you threw me out for good...

I had to go out and screw faceless men to reclaim my power. You stole that from me. You stole my power. You stole my voice. You stole my ability to be loved.

You raped me.

My skin STILL crawls. It's your fault. YOU make my skin crawl. I go right into that protective mode when a man wants sex from me. I can't feel love through sex anymore. Sex is a means to take my power. Sex hurts me. I can't let my guard down for sex. It's my power. You almost walked off with all of my shit and I'm STILL trying to get it all back.

I WANT MY VOICE.

YOU RAPED ME.

Just so we're clear, The Crazy Israeli was/is a lot of (bad) things, but he was definitely not a rapist.
This event predates him. This was Jeremiah.