Rape, Rape Go Away

I was raped at the age of twenty two. You would have thought I'd known better at that age, but nothing could prepare me for this. I didn't even talk about this until a suicide attempt at the age of 50 it was so creepy and incendiary.

I was working as a manager for a hamburger joint at the time trying to save money to get married.  Yes, it's true I'm gay now, but at the time I struggled like many other gays with my sexual identity.

There was one guy I hired who seemed really nice and had good references, but right away I knew was trouble.  He started bringing me expensive gifts and let it be known that he had feelings for me.  Being straight out of college I tried to be all PC and everything and told him I could not accept any gifts, that I was flattered by his attraction, but I was set to get married within a year or two.  After that, things settled down, until one night he got in a fight with some other employees over some matter...I ended up having to fire 3 people in one night...one was the "gay" guy.  But there seemed to be no hard feelings.

One week, I became extremely ill with strep throat or the flu...can't remember.  There was a knock at the door and there stood a friend, the "gay" guy, with a steaming bowl of hot soup and some brandy. I was so sick, I just said come on in and I got back in bed (if anyone wonders, I was not in the least attracted to this guy).  He fixed me a bowl of soup, we made small talk, where he told me he found another job. I felt much better.  I hate being the bad guy! Anyway, he said he'd be right back. He was to open the brandy and give me a thimble full to help me sleep.  I took a drink and he said he'd let himself out, but he sat there.

All I remember next was the room spinning and falling backwards on the bed. When I woke up, he was having his way with me brutally.  I didn't really know what was going on.  I noticed I was naked and on my stomach.  I started screaming and crying and trying to fight back, but to no avail.  Within a few minutes it was all over. He got up, so did I and I started beating him within an inch of his life.  It was then he showed me the cards he was holding.  During my drugged out stupor, he had gone through my address book and gotten and memorized my parents and girlfriend's numbers.  He started threatening to call every time I went near him.  I was just devastated.  My worst nightmares were coming true.  I had dabbled in homosexuality but not to this degree.  I was still confused.

My girlfriend was in another state in college and my parents were living in another state. I felt trapped like I didn't have a choice. Therefore, for a whole week, I had to do things at this guy's command.  He would cook for me, bathe me, put me to bed, choose what TV and music I listened to and so forth.  I was still sick and now I was mentally sick and physically sick on a whole different level.  He  would make me dance in front of him and make me do dispicable things that I had never thought of at the time.  I began to disassociate from my body just so I could survive. Then there was the last straw.

He had arranged to give himself a big birthday party among many of his friends and I was to appear out of the cake and be his boyfriend for the night.  There was no way I could do this. I finally got the nerve and the willpower to let things fall where they might.  During the day, while he was away at work, I decided to call my girlfriend and I told her everything that was going on. She just told me to get out of the house and go to her parent's home and she would fly home as soon as possible to help out.  We felt it would be best for me to quit my job and go home and get straightened out.

I packed up my suitcase as quick as I could and called work and told them something important had come up and I'd be leaving for home right away....I just didn't care at this point....I was just frantic.  As I was about to leave, my perp walked in and asked where was I going.  I ripped the phone out of the wall and said to my girlfriends.  I told him to she and my parents knew, I'd had enough, and that he could go to hell.  I was so full of rage, I just beat the living shit out of him and pushed him down a flight of stairs.  He ran away crying and said I'd regret this.  But I decided he would.  There was no way I could go to the police, for me.  And there were loose ends to wrap up, but that was the last time I ever saw him.  Unfortunately, it was not the last I would hear from him.

Should I have shared this story, maybe not.  But it is something that happened to me a long time ago that has affected me to this day.  The more I talk about it, the stronger I get.  Hopefully, you will get something from this. I don't what that will be....but hopefully this isn't in vain......I know I could probably have handled things better, but you really don't know until you've experienced it. Thanks for listening. I know this was uncomfortable....