Homeward Bound

So this morning has been quite eventful in my life. My blog got a visitor from Carson City. Hola, Carson City! What do you want to know? Someone from there called my phone twice and hung up first ring. I don’t know what is happening with that. Maybe someone took notice or I’m getting arrested, who knows. I’m just glad someone noticed.

I want to address a question about that night and that is why I went home with him. I found out from therapist there is actually a “mountain of evidence” that most women stay with their rapists. I’m going to have to look up some scholarly journal articles on that. My reason is weird though so, I’ll tell you the story.

{D} was inebriated, to put it lightly, by the end of the night. He was drunk when he showed up and actually ubered to the hotel. {D} was literally falling down drunk. Like he just couldn’t walk. I’ve seen him like that, but this went a little above and beyond I assume because of the coke.

{D}, like most drunk people was fucking obnoxious. He needed to go home. I was worried about him so I said I was going to take him home because I wasn’t sure if he could navigate his high rise and find his door. The plan was taking him home and coming back to {M} who I was actually dating at the time.

{M} and {D} had owned the same Mercedes SL55. Like not identical but the same damn vehicle. That’s why I planned that little shindig in the first place. That’s the only reason {D} was there that night. I’ll go into my 6 year not a relationship with {D} another time, but we had been having sex for 6 years. I remembered his old car.

I was literally planning to come back to {M}. I’m not that girl, I stay with the man I came with. However, {D} needed to get home. I walked over to {M} and let him know I was going to take {D} home, but I would be back in like 30-45 minutes. Then I helped {D} put his pants on because he was having some trouble with that.

Now, this is where it gets interesting. So, {D} had told me he loved me that night. I had been in love with him for years. Now he was in love with me. so {D}’s misogynistic drunk ass walked over to {M} and says:

“I’m taking her home and I’m keeping her. Is that okay?”

{M} then agreed to this exchange and they shook hands.

Chattel. I was chattel.

At this point I basically carried {D} down to my car to take him home. The drive was horrendous. He had his fingers on my nipples and touching my very painful vagina as I tried to drive. I kept telling to stop because I was having trouble keeping the car on the road because I was fighting him. I was so pissed off by the time we made it to his place.

Then I carried him to his condo and got him inside. And there I stayed. I hadn’t been drinking at all that night, but I needed a damn drink when we got there. At one point I yelled at him for telling me he loved me and yelled that I loved him too. He never knew that because I never told him.

So, that’s the story of going home with my rapist. I went home the following day and immediately texted my two friends and told them I was making a huge mistake. But, we were in love. I’m silly like this, but I have always believed that as long as you love each other you can get through anything. That would include the physical damage he caused that nigh and my one friend, a physician, told me to go to the emergency room to be treated. I said I’d be okay. I’ll go into the damage another time, but it wasn’t good and should have gone.