I was raised by my parents to respect myself and others and to always be true to who I am. As soon as I turned 18 I made a decision that should have been better thought out, but wasn't, and dove right into my first away from home living experience. I lived with 3 other females and we were all right out of high school. So we partied and had fun. And I started to make more decisions that I look back on and highly regret. One thing I stuck to was my virginity. I wanted to save myself for someone special or even marriage, as a personal decision. Something 2 of my other roommates were opposite of, and the other was also a virgin for no apparent reason. She soon lost her virginity and liked the life style of my other 2 roommates.
For some reason, it bugged everyone that I wanted to keep my virginity. So it became their mission to change that. And one night as I was passed out in my bed, a guy my roommate wanted me to hang out with came in my room and changed my life. I woke up unable to move. My arms were stuck and I felt pain. I just started saying no, no, no over and over but it was too late. He held me down till it was over and that was it. In the morning my sheets were covered in blood and I hid them and hid from the guy for as long as I could till he got mad and finally left me alone. After almost a year of living in that apartment I went through many more bad decisions though none involving sex. I never had sex after that.
Then I decided I hated the life I had been living. I was young and this could all be fixed. So I got a new job and decided to start college full time and eventually move. That is when I met my next boyfriend. He was very popular and known for selling and doing mass amounts of drugs. Primarily coke and marijuana, but also did a lot of acid and ecstasy. He was crazy and he was always where I was. He always turned up. Everyone said he liked me and wanted to go out with me. Eventually we did end up dating. Girls warned me about him but he said they were just jealous exes. We moved in together with 2 other guys. And all we did was party. I worked and partied and he went to jail. He went to jail at least once a month for violating his probation. I visited him every visiting day. I brought him money and underwear and sock and anything he asked for. I thought he liked me. But soon things started to turn strange. It started with girls and then girls and drugs and his temper. I couldn't prove he was cheating but I felt it. I knew, but I couldn't prove it. He made me feel like his life was worthless and I was all that mattered. Without me he would be nothing and die. So I felt an obligation to stay. So I stayed.
Over the years the girls and drugs never stopped. It sounds strange about the girls, but he was just so flirtatious and the way he looked and talked to them. He never talked to me like that. He never invited me to go smoke, but other girls could go with him and his friends. I had to sit and wait. Why did I put up with it? No one else would have right? When I remember the abuse starting it was verbal. Then it turned physical. I always asked why me? And he said because he loved me. I asked did he ever do it to any of his other girlfriends? No, just me 'cause he loves me. He would do things that were so mean and messed up. I just sat there cause I thought if I didn't move he would stop. Sometimes I got sick of it and would try to fight back, but that made him madder. And he thought it was funny. He threw me all over the apartments we lived in, he spit in my face, he made me have sex even if I was passed out and sleeping. He would hurt me so bad sexually and it was like it wasn't enough. We went through a couple break ups and finally the last couple years we lived together cause I felt if we didn't he would be homeless.
Before we moved in together he hurt me worse than ever before and I couldn't hide this one.
