WARNING: Sexual violence.
This weekend was wonderful. Until it wasn’t.
Friday was a very mellow night. I was happy with that.
Saturday I woke up early, got dolled up and headed over to Tech Boys. It was his birthday and we were supposed to take a ferry out to Connecticut for the day. Unfortunately after a very long drive, when we got to the docks we found out that the ferry was no longer running “for the winter”. The website said nothing about this and specifically said that it was running special times for the next couple weekends. Tech Boy was really disappointed. I dropped him back off at his place and we resolved to do something else later. I felt terrible though I know this was not my fault and wanted to make sure he had a great evening. He came over around 6:30p and we went out for a really nice Steakhouse dinner and grabbed a few drinks. He is having a joint birthday celebration with his sister in a couple weeks. He wants me to come out, meet his sister, and a bunch of his friends. I thought that was a great idea.
Afterwards, we came back to my apartment and hung out with Roommate and her boyfriend. I had gotten Tech Boy some specialty craft beers which he promptly demolished as the evening evolved. We talked a lot, laughed, started to watch a movie, snuggled. He was uncharacteristically affectionate in front of Roommate and her boyfriend. He’s not really one for overt amounts of public displays of affection but he was happy to wrap his arms around me, tilt my head up to kiss my lips, and just randomly kissed the top of my head occasionally while giving me an extra squeeze here and there.
We kept drinking. He drank a lot.
Eventually I could tell it was getting on ‘frisky’ time so I moved our part of the evening into my bedroom. I pushed him down on the bed and proceded to tear his clothes off. Things got hot and heavy as they usually do for a couple hours. Things were a little sloppier than usual because he was so drunk, but I didn’t really care. It’s his birthday so I figured whatever, sex is pretty much just for fun anyways. We also have a tendency to get a bit rough, which is something I usually enjoy. I have very few sexual boundaries.
One thing I cannot deal with; one boundary I do have – I do not allow being hit, especially in the face. I will not stand for it. He violated that boundary. It had never happened before, with anyone (not in a sexual setting anyways). He was so drunk, and things were occasionally clumsy that the first time it happened I honestly thought it was an accident and he just caught my cheek funny. It wasn’t very hard. The second time I was in momentary shock. The third time it happened I pushed him back and told him if he ever hit me in the face again I’d rip his dick off. I meant it. He believed me. This happened probably over the course of 20-30 seconds, maybe less. He immediately got off of me, laid back, pulled me close, wrapped his arms tight around me, and passed out. I was livid. Furious. And trying to hold back the tears, which was the most frustrating of it all. I wanted to kick his ass out of my apartment and watch him freeze in the cold, but he was passed out flat and I couldn’t do anything at all. I didn’t see that coming. I knew this was a sexual fantasy he’d had. He had mentioned it very briefly once, but I had told him that was never ok. That was it. He was SO drunk I’m not even sure he remembers it happened. I remember. I’m so hurt. How do I trust him after that? I just laid there shaking in fury, confusion, and sadness.
I went from enjoying a mutually pleasing, and steadily evolving relationship to fighting back a wrath and sadness I never expected. Big changes happen so fast. My entire perception of him changed in one drunken instant.
We woke up. We had sex a couple times as if nothing unusual happened though I couldn’t look at him. I made a huge breakfast of my special old fashioned buttermilk waffles, sausage, and home-style hash browns for us, Roommate, and boyfriend. He stayed late as we all sat around chatting. Eventually he left. I went to the gym, took a nap, made dinner, and generally avoided thinking about it. Until I lay down to go to sleep and had nothing but blackness and room for my thoughts.
This is often how I work. I suppress. I avoid. I seethe internally. I continue on as if everything is normal until I’ve had a chance to process.
When I was younger I would have exploded instantly. I’ve completely turned 180 degrees from acting out to acting in/not at all. Neither is appropriate. Neither is healthy.
I need to talk to him. I’ve resolved to do that. I can’t see him again; I certainly can’t sleep with him again, until we talk this thing out. This may be the end of him though.
That’s a lot of loss for one week.
It shouldn’t even be a question. I should end it. Shouldn’t I? I just, don’t know how to think this way. I feel like I need to give him a chance to explain if he even can. I can’t help thinking that if it happens once, what’s to stop it from happening again. Especially if he’s drunk, can’t remember, and wasn’t ‘in control of his own actions’, then there’s really no predicting the problem. That’s dangerous. I’m not afraid of him. I don’t get drunk enough that I can’t defend myself. Not after the time Evil-Ex tried to kill me. But I’ve been in that place before. I’m not going to let the potential for that to happen again. But this wasn’t an angry he hates me for destroying his manipulative games kind of thing like it was for Evil-Ex. This was a sexual fantasy, while mentally hurtful, wasn’t physically hurtful as much as it was shocking. I don’t think he would ever hit me or hurt me ‘for real’. This was still a major violation of one of the very few boundaries that is important to me. It’s absolutely disrespectful. I do feel violated. My mental safety especially was violated. That’s not ok. No one has the right to do that. He doesn’t know about Evil-Ex, or any of that, but that shouldn’t matter.
I’ll talk to him. See what he has to say. Then decide. I guess. Am I going about this right? Should I even give him a chance to explain? I just don’t know. Simply acting would be so much easier. Trying to reason my way through things is hard, but it’s healthier, right?