One evening, when we’d slipped into bed, his Ex-Girlfriend called him. The conversation was brief, and when he hung up, he leaped out of bed. “There’s a midnight launch at the bookstore, the seventh Harry Potter book is coming out,” he gasped.

“Why is your ex-girlfriend calling you about that? Can’t we just buy the book in the morning?” I tried to hide how bitter I felt, as I didn’t want to give him the pleasure of knowing I was jealous. He looked at me as he shoved his feet into his socks.

“She’s just a friend. We read all the other books together. I’m just going to run and grab this last one.” He pulled on his pants and ran out of the room.

The Ex IV

The Ex IV

The next night, his Ex called him again. We were lying naked in bed, and he seemed surprised to see her name blinking on his screen so late at night. He answered, moving away so that I wouldn’t hear what they were saying. He listened for a long time before quickly turning to look at me. Finally he said, “Ya, I knew about that,” and hung up.

“What does she want now?” I asked, a deliberate frown crossing my face. He was flustered, evasive: “She said she’d heard a rumor about you . . . that you were raped and you blogged about it.”

The wind was knocked out of me, like I’d been punched in the stomach. Then I erupted.

“That’s such fucking bullshit. What business is it of hers? Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you defend me? I deleted that entry a long time ago. Right after I wrote the damn thing. Do you think it’s okay for her to shoot her mouth off like some vicious Mean Girl?” I started to wail, and he lay down beside me in bed, wrapping his arms around me.

“My ex has been through a lot; she’s very sensitive. I don’t know, maybe she’s a little jealous. I mean, look who’s in bed with me now.”

“What’s so fucking difficult for her? Just tell me, then we’re even.”

“I can’t talk about her secrets. I can’t break her trust. We hold each other’s confidence. Trust me, she’s damaged.”

That night I cried myself to sleep—not because I pitied myself because of the rape, but because I knew he’d never watch over me half as well as he watches over her.

Ephemera

Ephemera

I was raped this weekend. I swear I wasn’t trying to get with that guy, I didn’t even like him, but that’s how it goes. One way or another, we all lose our virginity somehow.

Deflowering

Deflowering