last night

...deep lips consuming her. the taste still lingers in the morning...

'R' day

so then there is the day of...'R' day if you will. (if you are just joining us today boys and girls, i suggest reading yesterday's post first...bring you up to speed so to speak.) i never know what to expect from the day. today has been surprisingly ok. no highs, no lows. but the night is still young.

there was a long period of time after this night, 15 years ago, that i had no word for what had happened. previous to going to college i had never been given that type of vocabulary. i grew up in a time - not so long ago - when date rape and acquaintance rape just wasn't talked about. i always thought of it as some shady figure in a dark alley. even when i went to college, they all talked about 'not walking home alone'.

i guess you have to understand where i came from. it is a place i like to refer to as a suburban nightmare. i had been uprooted in the middle of 5th grade and moved an hour and a half north into a 'planned development' as we called them in the midwest...a.k.a. a neighborhood. it was a nice place to live. but is was small town america. everyone knew everyone else, everyone's parents grew up together and they had all been in diapers together at some point. don't get me wrong, i'm a midwestern girl all the way. but i grew up with people that talked the pc talk, but they didn't walk it. i found hypocrisy in many unexpected people.

when i got home that night i stumbled up to my parents room and kissed them goodnight like i always did. i crawled into bed still wearing my clothes. when i woke up the next morning i knew what i had done the night before as the scattered images came rushing back to me. i stumbled into the bathroom - wanting nothing more than to shower - to my waiting mother. 'were you drinking last night?' she asked. 'no mom.' ' i won't be angry. i just want to know - your dad said he smelled alcohol on your breath last night. did something happen?' 'no mom', was all i could manage. how could i tell her that i had gotten drunk, passed out, blacked out, and let some guy have sex with me? i was 15, and i was positive she would blame me and be angry and disappointed in me. when i think about that moment now, i scream for her to tell. but she never has.

i knew from that next morning that something about the night before didn't feel right. it wasn't until my sophomore year of college that i would call it rape.

how could i feel anything but dirty, guilty, angry at myself, when all around me people i knew, that were my 'friends' called me unspeakable things because of that night. because of other nights that didn't go that far and ones that did. i've heard 'slut' more than once. it's hard to not begin to believe it. it's even harder to forgive yourself for things that are not your fault.

in april of 1995 there was a women's march on washington. so we road tripped to dc from athens ohio. it was the first year i had begun to heal - to forgive. took nearly 5 years to take that first step.





15 years later and i'm still trying to move forward. sometimes it feels like i've only taken a few steps - but when i look back, i can see it's been so much more.

the day before...

july thirteenth. the day before ‘D’ day, or ‘R’ day depending on how sick your sense of humor is. luckily mine is of a particularly dark and sinister nature. i’ve been trying to figure out how to begin this story – i’ve spent the last few days laying it out in my head, but finding it difficult to begin. how does one begin a story about something that changed your life? how do you share the sheer magnitude of a single event that altered the course of your life forever?

it was 15 years ago tomorrow. can you imagine? i was 15 – it’s hard to believe that this is my ‘half-life’ for that day. i’ve lived a second lifetime since then, was reborn in a sense that night – though we wish it would, rebirth doesn’t always signal a good thing.

i was 15. my best friend was cyndi neal. cyndi had a streak of white trash beautiful in her – but didn’t we all? with her blonde, permed, and sprayed hair. it was the 90’s after all. she dated mark cox. tall, thin, also blonde and blue eyed with the infamous mullet of the time. she and i had begun to drift as friends that school year before the summer of 1990 – she was dating mark, i was swimming all year round at that point, we both starting making other friends once we got to high school. but...i was trying. she begged me to go out with her that night. and so i went – she and mark picked me up and we drove to mark’s friend jason’s house. jason and i had met a few times in passing. he didn’t go to my school, so i didn’t really know him and he was really, really not attractive – in the least – and so i never really gave him much thought. but he had a crush on me – so i found out on the way to his house – and they were trying to get us to hook up. (hhhmmm...i don’t think so.) jason was cool about it, so we went to a party anyway. jason snuck a 1/5 of vodka from his mom’s liquor cabinet to bring with. ‘my gift for the night’, he called it.

let’s all take a moment to remember here that in this story i am 15 years old. i was going into my sophomore year of high school. i had been drunk like maybe 2 or 3 times prior to this night – on like wine coolers or beer – never hard liquor. i was also like 4’10” at the time (i know, i've grown a whole inch and a half since then!) and weighed maybe 105 pounds, if that. hhhmmm...ya think i might be walking you into a volatile situation...?

so when we get to this guy derek’s house i realize in looking around that i don’t know any of these people. they were all from different schools...hhhmmm...

i walk in in my jeans and white long sleeved button down shirt, tucked in of course to show off my tight little swimmer ass. i was always a bit of a tomboy, with a short boy haircut – my breasts not quite as perfect as they later became, but definitely on their way. and whenever i was in a new situation like this one, i was always a little shy and nervous. but aren’t we all a little insecure when we’re 15 years old? it still seems so strange that it was so long ago because it is a memory so vivid it’s like it happened yesterday – only it was tomorrow, 15 years ago. every year on tomorrow’s date i find a way to remember that 15 year old little girl. i mourn her passing, try to love her, pray for her to finally find peace. and every year i ask myself how long will i mourn her? is this the last year? and every year her memory comes back to me – sometimes it sneaks up on me and sometimes i can see it coming. i want so much for her to find peace and finally lay to rest. will this be the last year i mourn her? i won’t know until next year.

at some point i was sitting on the couch in the living room where people had gathered to watch nascar or some boring shit like that. jason brought me a drink – vodka and sprite. he said it would ‘loosen me up’. not knowing how much vodka was in the drink, i took it. (this is the time in the cheesy lifetime movie that the soundtrack turns dramatic and you just know something bad is going to happen.)

this is what i remember. i had the drink, then another. at some point i got up to get another drink and in walked nate treglia. i remember ending up in the bathroom with nate. (have no idea how i got there.) i was sitting on the sink vanity with him between my legs, kissing me. i remember running my hand thru his dark wavy hair and him getting upset with me because he had gel in it. i remember him taking my hand and leading me thru the living room and out the sliding glass door in the back of the house. i remember it was a clear cool night – not muggy like it usually is in ohio in july. i remember him leaning against a garage or a shed, pulling me to him, kissing me. i remember his pushing me to my knees and unzipping his pants. i remember him lifting me by the arms to lay me down on the ground. i remember feeling my pants being unzipped and tugged. i remember opening my eyes to nate’s face in mine, looking down at me. i ran my hands down his back and he was naked and moving inside of me. i remember his skin being tan and soft. i remember waking up again, he was still on top of me, but i couldn’t feel anything with my body at this point. i looked to the right and thru the bushes that were next to us i could see headlights from a car – i turned my head back to nate and felt his hand gently glide over my mouth. i remember him standing me up, putting my clothes back on me. i remember walking back into the house, it was obvious that everyone knew where we had been and what we had been doing. his arms flew up into the air as if to do a victory slam with his football buddies. at that point cyndi grabbed my hand, informed me we were late and had to get home for curfew. in less than a minute i was back in mark’s car on my way home. i don't remember his face. years later i saw a picture of him, but i don't remember his face from that night. i had no idea of what had just happened until cyndi told me. i was a virgin before that night, tomorrow, 15 years ago. and nate treglia took that away from me.

and tonight i mourn the little girl that was forced to grow up before she was ready. the girl who suffered humiliation and repercussions for years to come because of that night. i mourn the little girl that died that night. and tomorrow i will honor her passing and the birth of the tormented soul that would carry a burden that was not hers to carry for years to come.

Rape is the act of forced penetration of any bodily orifice (vaginally, anally, or orally) or forced cunillingous, involving violation of the survivor's body and psychological person. the assault is accomplished by the use of force, the threat of force, or without force when the survivor is unable to physically or mentally give her or his consent. it is the destruction of a feeling of control over one's body, life, and the course of events. Rape is an experience of violation, degradation, and humiliation. it often infuses the survivors with the shock of their own vulnerability.

fuckers!

i truly believe that mosquitoes are the spawn of Satan himself. i mean seriously...what else could have produced such blood-sucking motherfuckers?! they love me. no, i'm serious, the LOVE me! they seek me out, hunt me down. it doesn't matter where i go or what i'm doing, they will find me and BITE! fuckers! they bit me all weekend...five in one place on my neck! what the fuck! then, just yesterday, they bit me on the bottom of my foot. the bottom of my foot!!! what the fuck! spawn of Satan i tell you! FUCKERS!