abaya

Thanks for being honest, Stan. I think it's really helpful to the discussion here. I hope there are more honest people out there (on both sides) who will step up here and keep the thread as concrete as possible.

Precisely the kind of confusion that I'm talking about here. As far as I can tell, in the taxi when the guy picked me up, I kept asking if it was alright to go back to HIS place (a hostel in town, though not the same as mine). Again, the whole consent thing started pretty early.

Granted, the guy himself remembered more of the night than I did (from what he said), and thus could have made up the entire story about me giving consent... but who would be able to decide that? Not me. I'm capable of saying and/or doing just about anything when I'm drunk, and that's a known fact about me. I go crazy. But again... what kind of rapist provides a real name, address, phone number, and e-mail to an otherwise anonymous woman whom he could have simply picked up, fucked, and left for dead/passed out at any time?

Basically, the whole thing was just surreal as hell (literally), and I have no real conclusions about any of it. I don't know who to blame. I get angry at myself, at the guy, at the ride-along acquaintances who didn't give a shit about any of it. More than anything, the whole thing makes me pretty sad, though there are a few positive things that I found from the whole situation. But that's not what this thread is about.

__________________
And think not you can direct the course of Love;
for Love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.
--Khalil Gibran