Point of Impact

I went to have fun. To let loose and to allow myself to not worry about the consequences the next morning when I am tired, grumpy, and hating every kid that comes to my park. There was so much activity at the bar, why didn't I stay?

I was dancing by myself when this guy approached me. We danced, we did the normal things people do when they want to hook up. He told me I am hot, I returned the compliment. He was drunk. We were set on hooking up. We left together in my car to his place. Forty-five minutes later, I dress myself and walk out the door, showing myself out of the apartment.

I arrive at my truck and begin to cry. Flashbacks of my past began to flood my head, overwhelming me. I can't believe I let myself do that again. I began to feel my self-worth just fall to the ground like a falling star. The sudden moment of impact was when I was hit with my past hitting me. I am not talking about my past hookups, lovers, or boyfriends; I am talking about the last time I was raped.

It was on a March 25th. I was attending a make-up class to be a certified counselor for the Billy Graham Crusade. I was leaving to go home. I approached my beat up Toyota Tercel, jingling the keys around as I loom closer to my car. I stick the keys in my car and felt satisfied that I was responsible for following through with something. Then I feel a cold tip of a knife on my neck. I look in the rearview mirror to see a dark figure in the backseat, holding onto me.

"We can either play this my way, or the hard way." He said, pushing the knife into my skin.

"Okay!" I replied with a hyperventhilated tone of pure panic. "What do you want?"

"Drive."

I begin to drive,, the knife still on my neck. He tells me to turn on an empty parking lot. I turn into the desolate parking lot. There was two lightposts there. To my misfortune, only one of them was working.

He tells me to park my car in the opposite corner of the enterance. When I parked the car, my mind began to race in wonder of what was going to happen to me.

"Get out." He demanded as I got out of the car. He follows me out. "Pull down your pants. You make a sound, you will fucking regret it."

I felt like I was being ripped apart. Not only was my body in pain as he was raping me. My body being pushed against my own car and his dick, but my soul was in complete anguish. The only thought that was racing in my head was how I was going to tell anyone about it. If I was going to tell anyone. I didn't tell people the real story about myself until a couple years ago.

Now, I met this guy and we went back to his place. We began to take off our clothes and do the business. But naturally, my ass began to hurt and I told him I couldn't take any more. He first listened to me, but then he tried it again. I told him no. Then he tried it again. I told him to stop. He was drunk. Suddenly, images of my rape began to hit me. He tried it one more time, I forced him off me, got clothed and left.

Driving home, I listened to the sound of my engine roaring, my heart beating, and my soul breaking. I felt worthless. Like all I am ever worth is to be fucked. The only time I will experience someone's satisfaction is when they are inside me. I am single, victim to guys that like to emotionally rape me with their disconnected feelings.

The only thought in my head was that I wanted to talk to someone. I wanted to talk to my best friend. I want these thoughts to escape my head; however, I didn't want to word-vomit all this info just to make people feel sorry for me. But the only way that I can get over it is if I blog. And the sudden realization that I have to be at work in the morning... I don't want to be like this anymore.

I don't want to feel like the only good quality to myself is that I give good head, I am a very good kisser, and have a nice ass. I know I give good head, I know I am a good kisser, and I am puerto-rican, so I know I have a nice ass. I want people (especially my boyfriend[s]) to know that I am a person with a heart. It's been broken several times, but I am just as human as they are.