3 weeks before I left my first year of college, (I had just turned 19) I met a boy through a school event and a few mutual friends. I talked to him first, and he felt that my initiation meant that “I wanted it”. I had recently been through a painful breakup, and I knew that I wasn’t ready to engage in intercourse. I went with some friends on a Saturday night to he and his friends apartment to pre-game. He asked me to stay around after, but I wanted to stay with my friends. We later met up at the same party. After a while of talking, he took me on the back porch and started kissing me and pulling off my dress. He said we should go back to his place, and I said okay, but that I didn’t want to have sex with him. He started interrogating me about it, and belittling me for my choice. Every time I tried to explain myself, he would make me feel worthless for choosing to be that way, and this continued for about 1 hour or a little longer. I’m not entirely sure how we got back to his place, but he tried to have sex without a condom. I didn’t know what else to do, and everything I had gone into that night thinking had been conflicted by how he was treating me. He held my throat and roughly had sex with me, 3 times that night. He was aggravated because I wasn’t into it enough and was too tight for him. He wouldn’t take off his used condom because he hadn’t decided if he wanted to “fuck me in the morning”. Finally I pushed him off me and got my things and ran out at about 4 in the morning. I could hardly walk or sit comfortably the next few days because of the bruises on my thighs and waist. I’ve barely spoke out about it, because I know that I should have left earlier in that night, and it isn’t just his fault, but no the first time should have been enough.