How did you feel in the next few weeks?
There was some kind of party the next night. I was so hung over. I remember feeling better once it had gotten dark. Was it the new years party I went to with Jenny? Was that the one where I gave up and fucked Justin?
Justin was a whole other story. He had made me feel special before the incident, when I gave him a blowjob and fell asleep cuddling. Then he wouldn't talk to me anymore. After the incident I didn't give a fuck anymore. I knew everyone I had ever been with had used me for sex. I decided I would only pursue relationships with girls, and only use guys for sex. So I listened to all of Justin's lies. We were in the sauna, I just sat there and listened. I didn't care, I knew he was lying. But I wanted sex. He wanted me to get him started in the sauna. Then we took it back upstairs, to the apartment where everyone had fallen asleep. I had a condom, we got in the shower. I remember he tried to finger my asshole and I eventually pushed his hand away. Why did he do that? Could he tell I had taken it in the ass? He thought I wanted it in the ass? I don't know. I don't even remember if this was the night after the rape.
The part with Justin wasn't rape. Maybe coercion, since he lied so much to get me into bed, but I knew that every word was a lie, and I consented.
How long went by from the time I was raped to the day I left for California? I remember hearing him screaming at his girlfriend again, through the windows of the apartment next door. "You did it again!" She had cheated on him again, that much was certain. Did she fuck his brothers again? I don't know. I don't give a fuck. They made me so uncomfortable.
I started packing. He started texting me again the day I was leaving. Asking what was up, acting so innocent. I told him I was busy. I was packing, to leave on a flight that night. I told him I was going to California. He said his girlfriend was leaving for California that night too. Probably on the same flight too, since she was from LA. I never saw her though. Good. Good timing too. What would have happened if I was stuck there next door, with only a thin wall between me and him? So I was gone, off the island. I felt safe in Monterey, with my dad. I didn't have to think about anything, I could nurture my denial. I didn't want to go back to Hawaii. I didn't know what I was going to do about "him" when I got home.
My mom was watching my cats while I was gone. She'd stop by my apartment every night to take care of them. One night he stuck his head out of his door to check who was going in my apartment. My mom smiled and said hi. She had always said hi to him. She called me and we joked about how he was "watching out for me", "watching out for my apartment" while I was gone. I didn't want to go home.
I think we were on a beach in Santa Cruz when my dad got the call. February 6, 2009? The resident manager of my building wanted to make sure the tenant wasn't in his apartment. My apartment. Because the SWAT was about to bust down the next apartment's door. My heart felt so much lighter after I knew he was gone. I wouldn't have to deal with him again. The SWAT was there, he was gone. It wasn't even his apartment, it was her's. I didn't want to tell anyone I had ever drank with them. I didn't want to get in trouble for anything he had done.
I went home and continued to move on with my life. I got my dream job at a video store, and the resident manager and landlord of the apartment next door packed up all their shit and threw it in the trash. She never came back for any of it. They replaced the door, where the hole had been punched in around the lock. New tenants moved in eventually, much quieter ones who I didn't have to interact with.
And so denial kept me alive. With them gone I was able to push the entire event out of my mind for as long as possible.