I haven’t opened up about what really happened to me on the night of April 30.

It was a Wednesday and I was off work. I decide to go to a local grocery store that also sells amazing home-cooked Southern inspired soul food. This place has the best catfish sandwich you will ever eat. If you have one, you’ll agree with me. In line, I saw one of my fraternity brother’s ex girlfriends. The store was too small for me to avoid her, so I ended up eating lunch with her even though I did not want want to. “Okay, this won’t be too bad. Get in, get out…” I thought to myself. She invites herself to hangout with me as I get some work done over the course of the day at a local coffee shop (she met with a professor whom’s class she was failing so this was couple hours later) The coffee shop was full since it was exam week and everyone was studying, so we decide to move it to a private study room in the library so we could focus.

This is where things begin to be weird.

She pulls up a photo album on her computer of her and another one of her friends making out and having s** in the sun by a pool. I think nothing of this and just enjoy the photos since I’ve had several other female friends feel I need to see them in revealing clothing or none. So I play it off and kind of shake my head like it is no big deal.

We go back to her apartment and here is where it gets worse.

My level of drug use at the time was truly reprehensible. I could never refuse anything offered to me. It was left over from my ex-girlfriend buying me $500 worth of drugs that previous summer. We were such good customers, our dealer would see me out at the bars, pull me away, and give me a bump of cocaine or Molly.

Take. Take. Take. Was my frame of mind.

“Have you ever had klonopin?” she asked.

“No, I f*** around with Xanax occasionally.” I respond.

She then proceeds to give me a klonopin which she instructs me to take orally and crushes up an Adderall for me to snort. She then loads a bowl of marijuana and gives it to me to smoke.

I felt like I was walking on air. Bouncing up and down as we walked back to my house.

“I feel so f****** good!” I repeated.

“I kind of want to go out drinking tonight.” She said.

“Service industry scum get half off their bill at the pub tonight.” I respond since I was slaving away in the service industry at that time.

I drop my bags off at my house and we walk down the street to the bar.

“Don’t drink too much! Actually, you’ll probably be okay.” She said.

“We’ll do pitchers!” I gleefully respond.

Midway through the first pitcher I am feeling it more than her. Slurring my words and generally making no sense. She buys another pitcher I drink from, then she buys me a bourbon and coke.

“I have some more weed at my apartment.” She tells me.

I have no idea how I got back to her apartment. She is fairly strong, so I am guessing she probably carried me for a bit of the trip home.

Last thing I remember before waking up was her turning her queen-sized bed down. I wake up 4:45 am. Completely n***, cradled by her, no memory of what she made me do in that bed .

I just feel so stupid. Was I raped?