My friend was arrested and put in jail for an alleged rape. At first, I didn’t think much of it, except that I had a slight stomach ache. It reminded me of the sheer anxiety I felt when I found out that Josh was arrested and put in jail, and wondering, plain and simple, why. But unlike the situation with Josh, I knew why this friend was put in jail. And I felt scared for him, because he might be overwhelmed, especially because of the way people will talk when he gets back to school. He’s a joke, whether he’s innocent or guilty. I also felt slightly angry.
If he did, in fact, rape her, then fine. Whatever. I’ll be angry at him for violating all morals because his penis couldn’t wait. And I will be so sorry for the girl. Her whole life and trust in men, ruined.
But I’m most angry about the people at school who know very little about him who are making it all into a joke. Or they’re saying that they definitely saw this coming, or they knew something was fishy. No, you didn’t. Only through rumours, which you should always, always either take with a grain of salt or keep in mind but disregard. It’s not like you ever took the time to get to know him because everyone who has lived here all their lives knows all the supposedly fact-based misconceptions about him. I’m an outsider, yes, but I find that prejudices are built around people for little reason on small incidents. All the skaters are potheads. “Poor” people are Dirties and they apparently smell bad. Half the senior class is full of alcoholics.
What I think and firmly believe probably happened was that yes, he seduced the girl into having sex, maybe, and perhaps she was a bit reluctant, but that she probably regretted the whole thing afterwards and then told her parents or the authorities that she was raped. Sexually assaulted and raped. Maybe it was to save her dignity as a supposed virgin. Perhaps she told her friends about the whole thing and they harassed her to turn him in, based on misconceptions. Maybe they called her a slut or something because they disapproved of her sex life. Or maybe they disapproved of her sexual orientation because perhaps they are hardcore narrow-minded lesbians. I don’t know.
Thing is, girls can do that. The least bit of doubt about what you did, and you can turn a guy in and say he raped you. That’s why, on one count, a guy has got to be careful about who he chooses to have sex with. If you don’t choose someone you trust and is fully willing, then you have the potential to be screwed by the law.
And as for the girl? I have no idea who she is. And maybe she’s someone like me. But I’m assuming that she knew my friend beforehand, at least several hours or days beforehand, and going into that whole thing, I’m certain that it probably seemed like a date. If you’re going into a date with someone you don’t know very well, especially someone that charming and confident, do a group date. Whether or not you’re on a group date, always stay in a very public place and don’t stay out to all hours of the night. I don’t care how romantic it would be otherwise. You probably won’t be raped. You could probably even get away with some making out in public at Hufnagel or Kidsburg (just don’t consent to get in the Rocket Ship or any tunnel-like structure). And if you’re not sure if you want to have sex, just say no. The guy should respect your decision, and if he genuinely cares about you, he’ll be able to wait. This should be common sense.
Basically, though, my friend did not grab some random good-looking girl in the Wal-Mart parking lot and force himself upon her. Come on, now.
I am mainly freaking right now, though, because my eyebrow magnifying mirror is MISSING from my room ever since yesterday, when someone apparently swiped it from my desk in an attempt to improve the quality of their own eyebrows. That thing is my baby, perhaps more so than my iPod. I use it every day for a good amount of time, and I become very stressed if I can’t find it. And I can’t find it now. I paid eight dollars for that thing, and it is amazing. I hate living here and being unable to lock all the doors and windows, because it means extreme invasion. At any moment, one of my sisters or cousins could sneak into my room and take something without my knowledge or permission. And knocking is apparently unnecessary. If I go over there to borrow something, though, I get stared at until I leave. It’s not like I could go over there to grab food after school or drink all their juiceboxes or chill and utilize their normal-sized television or gaming systems or whatever. It’s all about asking and being polite for us. Don’t get me wrong; I love my family, but sometimes…Jesus Christ Almighty, you know?
I am very tired, and I feel that this song is accurate for capturing happy nostalgia, despite the lyrical content. This would be a shout-out time to my frennnz. Lewisburg and Richmond. Guess what shirt I wore today. Just guessssss.
Here are the lyrics. I don’t think I could really express what this song means to me any other way, really, then urging you to listen to it. Jenny Lewis’ voice says it all.
I had one friend in high school; recently he hung himself with string
His note said, “If livin’ is the problem, well, that’s just bafflin’.”
And at the wake I waited around to see my ex-first-love
And I barely recognized her; I knew exactly what she was thinkin’ of
We sat quietly in the corner whisperin’ close about loss
And I remembered why I loved her and I asked her why I drove her off
She said, “The slow fade of love, its soft edge might cut you
And our poor friend, Jim, well, he just lived within
The slow fade of love.”
A woman calls my house once a week; she’s always sellin’ things
Some charity, a phone plan, or a subscription to a magazine
As I turned her down (I always do) there was somethin’ tremblin’ in her voice
I said, “Hey, what troubles you?”
She said, “I’m surprised you noticed.
“Well, my husband, he’s leavin’ and I can’t convince him to stay
And he’ll take our daughter with him; she wants to go with him anyway
I’m sorry I’m hard to live with; livin’ is the problem for me
I’m sellin’ people things they don’t want when I don’t know what you need.
“He said, ‘The slow fade of love and its mist might choke you
It’s the gradual descent into a life I never meant
It’s the slow fade of love.'”
I was drivin’ south of Melrose; I happened upon my old lover’s old house
I found myself starin’ at the closed-up door like the day she threw me out
“Diana, Diana, Diana, I would die for you
I’m in love with you completely; I’m afraid that’s all I can do.”
“You can sleep upon my doorstep. You can promise me indifference, Jim.
But my mind is made up and I’ll never let you in again.”
For the slow fade of love it might hit you from below
It’s your gradual descent into a life you never meant
It’s the slow fade of the love [repeated an infinite number of times]
5 Comments so far
Leave a comment