I remember you pouring me just one more shot. I remember being in your bed. I remember the weight of your body on mine and the sloppiness of your kisses.

Perhaps I even remember telling you to go for it. But after that I remember blackness.

I remember feeling you put that THING in me. I remember wanting to throw up. I remember wanting to scream. I remember telling myself I’d forget in the morning.

And then I remember the sickening feeling when I remembered the kisses and the weight.

I remember you telling me I was amazing, especially the second time. I remember the feeling of dread and violation that followed. I remember this all because combined with what I do not remember, these memories haunt me each day.

You say I was sober but I do not remember any of it and I do not know if I called out, cried out, screamed your name in pleasure or protest.

I do not even remember if I was conscious. Perhaps I was asleep, my body limp as you pushed yourself into me again and again.

I only remember tiny moments that led me down this path. I only remember these moments that made me shiver with disgust. I blame myself entirely based off these moments I remember, when I know I should blame you for what I don’t.

When will I forget to blame myself and remember to blame you?