I awake in a dark room, confused as to where I am. After a few moments, I realize I’m at home in my bed, my head pounding and foggy from the night before.
Slowly my mind nags at me to remember a dream.
I had gone out with my boyfriend and a couple friends and later on ended up back at my friends house. Someone had brought “party favours”. It was a chill evening, but as soon as drugs or alcohol got involved the evening became anything but.
My boyfriend had issues. Anger issues, self-esteem issues, jealousy issues, you name it—these issues plagued him. He became increasingly irate throughout the evening and wanted to leave. I could tell he really just wanted me to leave, but I refused. He left and I knew I would regret my decision later. Or more accurately, he would make me regret my decision later.
After he left we danced to the same song on repeat 'til our bodies hurt, we laughed 'til we cried, we had serious talks that no one remembers and I was comforted knowing that I was in a safe and loving place.
The drugs started to wear off and it was time to go home.
Before leaving to go out that evening I slipped in a “just in case” tampon as I was coming to the end of my period. During the course of the evening I had taken it out and didn’t have a replacement but my period was done so I wasn’t concerned.
When I got home, the sun was already flirting with the horizon. People had begun their day and I was just bringing mine to a close.
I crawled into bed next to my boyfriend and to my surprise he was happy to see me. I was still feeling a little silly so I welcomed his frisky touches. He wasted no time sticking his hand in my underwear.
He noticed I didn’t have a tampon in and his loving, flirtatious attitude turned into a dark, angry, violent one.
At this point, the drugs were completely out of my system and all I wanted was to sleep. I was drained of any life and didn’t have the drive to stick up for myself. It was pointless really, he never listened to what I had to say, he was always right.
There was a lot of yelling, fighting and holes punched in walls. After that, the dream fades.
As my mind wanders back I turn on the light, look around our room and realize there are actually holes in the walls. My boyfriend was not in bed with me so I slowly get up and make my way to the living room. I see him sitting on the couch his anger palpable.
We lock eyes and I instantly know it wasn’t a dream, but in fact, my reality.
That night was not the first time, nor was it the last time, he violated me because of his own issues.