The Things We Forget

I need to tell you something that I have never told anyone before, not even the counsellors. I need to tell it now because I won't have the courage later (and even now saying it seems harder than I had imagined). I need to say it because it worries me, makes me worry about my judgement and the things I used to justify over and over and the things I might continue to justify (although I'd like to think I wouldn't, I would have liked to think I wouldn't have made an excuse for the first time.)

It only happened once.

We were lying in her bed after "it" had happened, and I was laying on her chest. I felt happy because this time she had really kept up her end of the deal and held me after, so that I didn't break. For the first time I had felt truly safe, and at peace, I had thought maybe we could really have what Drayc and I had. The kind of thing I was longing for.
I thought how fully and truly I trusted and could trust her.

and almost immediatly after that thought went through my mind,
I was pinned against the wall.
Her forearm was pressed against my throat, harder and harder. I gasped and choked. I pulled hard at her arm and it wouldn't leave. Eventually it did. I started crying and she couldn't understand why. Even after apologizing she acted as though it were a joke.

And honestly I had always believed that she never meant to hurt me in the ways that she did, that they were all just accidents, all just caused by the best intentions. But this is as candidly as I have talked about it and probably the only time that I will mention it this straightforward. Now I cannot imagine what and idiot I was at that time. Believing that it had only been a joke, though it was one of the times out of many that I was truly afraid of her. A part of me hates myself for being so hopelessly feminized (and another part of me hates myself for believing females make themselves the victims of violence and abuse). Of course at the time I was bound by my word and whatever she had wanted to do she was allowed, but it doesn't change the fact that she shouldn't have wanted to. And yet a part still wonders if she really did want to.

I don't think I could ever feel right referring to her treatment of me as abuse, although a logical part of me, and the counsellors, and the brochures, all say that it was. I like to believe she never meant any of it to hurt me. Because I don't want to think that one human being would hurt another on purpose. I don't want to believe that.

But there you have it, and you know.
This was not as well thought out or carried out or anything as my other posts, and I suspect the next time I do so, things will have gone back to normal.