Seeing him was strange although not altogether unexpected -- this town isn't so big, after all. I found I wasn't angry anymore. My prevailing sense was that he was "just" a person. Dunno if I'm explaining that correctly.
On my 17th birthday we drove to the lake and made out in his van. The last word I said before he entered me was "no," so I guess you could say that technically it was a date rape, but then again, I shouldn't have been flat on my back and naked in the back of his van, right? I don't think about it much; I think we were interrupted by spotlights shining on our asses. Oh yeah, good times.
posted by Newpeep, N.D. (neurotic depressive) @ 7:54 PM
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