He knows I didn't like it.

He knows I didn't consent to it.

I pushed him away, told him that I didn't see him that way, this is wrong, that I wasn't attracted to him at all. He sees me dancing with another woman, then for 6 days, looks at me, like he's plotting something. I couldn't figure it out at the time, but when he tricked me into his room and was insistent, despite my protests, he knew I didn't want to or agree to being used. "It's better between a man and a woman", he said. He even tried to get a threesome with me and my girl at the time: he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. I wanted to believe that because I stayed and tried to reason with him that it was my fault, but I was also afraid that he'd get violent, I was picking up on that. I don't really know what would've happened had I went out the door. He might've chased me, or waited another day to be even more aggressive. Him and I have an unfortunate bond: we know what happened, only he's lying about it. Our mutual "friends" are too afraid of the truth, and have the luxury of not knowing what happened, so their ignorance saves them from the ugliness of the rape, and they have the priviledge to imagine anything they want about what happened, especially the idea that he's a decent guy. I don't have that priviledge. I experienced what kind of person he really is, having any positive memories wiped out because of his selfish act. Everytime I think of it, it's as thought he thought he had the right to change my mind about sex with men, thinking that I prefer men to women, that I was with her because I hadn't had sex in a while:I didn't matter. The disgusting thoughts and beliefs that came out of him made my image of him worse, and our group doesn't want to see what I know. I'm stuck with this ugly memory. Deep down, I know I did nothing wrong. I want this trauma to leave my body. I don't know how to get over this, eventhough I go about my daily activities like a supposed normal person. I needed help to get over this, but it was like receiving brain surgery from a bike mechanic. Everyday is another day I survive with what that asshole did, and the ignorance and humiliation inflicted at me from those I trusted. Plus the discomfort in my body overwhelms me. This is the only place I can write about it and feel some relief. How can I find any humor in an unfunny event like this? I'll never forgive him, and I'll never have closure.