January 2 - "Write about a time someone said no."

They say that alcohol consumption is a "get out of jail free" card for a hundred taboo circumstances. Don't get me wrong, I believe that it does lower inhibitions. But it's still you in there. Watching things as they happen. Trying to stop them.

"Come on. We both know this is going to happen." His hands were on me, all over me, pulling my clothes off faster than I could attempt to keep them on. By the time I grabbed my shirt from his hands, my bra had been unsnapped; as I struggled to snap it back, he'd undone my jeans and started yanking them down. It was a strange sensation, having so many voices in my head at once. The playful drunk: "Well, you've done it before, so it makes no sense to say no this time." The therapist: "If you don't want to, you shouldn't." The peacemaker: "If you hurt his feelings, your friends won't all be able to hang out."
So the consensus was for me to be playfully serious in a kind way. "Nooo," I giggled. "No, we can't! Stop!" I laughed again.
Not that it worked. Eventually he got frustrated with my admonishments. "Look, we're drunk, and we want to fuck. Let's do this."
I remember him seeming angry. This was only my second time drunk, and the first time, I hadn't bothered to attempt saying no.

I doubt he noticed my tears. Maybe he thought it was just some of the sweat dripping off his face and splashing onto mine. It's all salt anyway.

I recall that I had to throw up. "Too much vodka," I said in apology. Could be. Or I was disgusted with his forceful coercion and manipulative hands. More likely I was sick with myself. Another foolish girl being handed cup after cup until she lacks the strength to say no.

Well, I did say no. It just didn't count for much.


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