Mike & Harley Memories Resurfacing

I can picture his apartment. It was grungy. He was eating hard boiled eggs with his hands when I arrived; I was repulsed. We were supposed to go on a date... He suggested watching a movie cause he worked late the night before (as a bouncer at my favourite bar). I looked at the TV across from me as I sat on the couch, I agreed. Then he said he didn't have any on that one, that we had to watch on the other TV... The other one was across from his bed. He escorted me to it, I sat on the edge, awkward. Uncomfortable. I had told him before getting together that I didn't want to hook up, I wanted to get to know one another, he agreed. It's a blur, who sat down first. But he was laying on the bed, propped on his right side, watching the movie. I have no idea what movie. He coaxed me to lay with him, I faced the TV, tense. I tried to avoid physical contact as I thought about leaving. I regret not leaving. I don't know how far into the movie we got before he started touching me. He slid his hand along my body, hip, leg. I continuously told him no. Pushed his hand off. I still didn't get up. I was afraid of him. I looked out the window and considered who would hear me if I called for help - but I know people won't help a woman who screams rape. It's psychological science. He kept touching me. I kept pushing him off. He became forceful, not aggressive, but I was afraid. His hand went down my pants as he molested me. I think he kissed me. I don't remember most of what happened... I remember him on top of me. I have no clue how he got my pants off, or if my shirt was still on. I remember coming to during it and asking if he was almost done. I was making it clear that I wasn't an active, consenting participant. I know early on in the rape I did tell him no, I did tell him to stop. He was entering me and I was pushing his chest. I was trying to get away. I tried to fight. I failed to escape. I didn't listen to my body tell me to escape earlier, and I succumbed to his weight. I later found a text where I asked him if he was clean, making a (in my mind, rude) statement about him not wearing a condom. After he raped me, he drove me to the sea bus station. I was disoriented. I wanted to escape. I think he kissed me, said we should so it again. I made my way home via transit and felt like a ghost. I was numb. I tried to play it off to people we knew like I consented. I "hooked up" with Mike the bouncer. I was okay telling the lie until I saw him at the bar again. And again. And I saw him talking to other girls and I wanted to die. He stalked me in the bar, changing his post from his usual spot. This went on for a long time. Many visits. Once there was a girl in the women's washroom who was sick, too drunk, over-served. I exited a stall and there he was. In the woman's washroom. Face to face with me. I had a panic attack, but I hid it from him. I tried to tell my friends what happened, that he forced me, but we all knew mike from the same place. I think they thought I just regretted it. I just didn't want to be near him. 

I can't write about harley right now... I just keep remembering how he'd threaten me. Tell me he should back hand me. Tell me I deserved to be hit in the face. Tell me that any other man would. Made me feel like I deserved it and was lucky that he wasn't doing it to me. He was warning me, telling me he was going to do it. That it would be my fault. He also used to tell me that he should rape me. That any other man would. That he should rip my panties off (his words) and take me. I hate the word panties... I don't know why, it's always been cringy to me. He made me believe that if he hurt me in any way, I deserved it. He sexually assaulted me countless times - he shoved his hand down my pants, rubbed the outside, while at the pool he'd molest me under the water or in the steam room. I just let him do it over and over. He told me he loved me, he groomed me into feeling special, and he assaulted me over and over and over. He manipulated and gaslight me every other sentence. I don't know how I fell for it. I'm convinced he drugged me - laced the pot we were smoking. I've smoked pot before - that was a different high. He'd get mad at me if I wouldn't smoke with him... It should have been so damn obvious. I went through severe withdrawal and I couldn't figure out why. I was addicted to his drugs and my own prescription ones. How did that happen..... How did I let that happen....