I wish I didn't have to keep telling this story.

On Thursday, I went to court to get the restraining order against my rapist renewed.

This time, he showed up.

I figured he would; he and his lawyer were aggressive during discussions re: the lawsuit about getting me to drop the restraining order. Which my lawyer told him I would not do. And since, he's been RSVPing to every publicly-viewable local Facebook event that I'm RSVPed to starting the day after the order was set to expire. Which sends a message.

So I went to court. He entered after me and, in an almost-empty courthouse, sat behind me. Directly behind me.

They eventually called our docket number, and we rose.

And I had to stand next to my rapist. Shaking, dry-mouthed. And the judge had me start from the beginning: what happened?

Your honor, he raped me. Two days later, he violently assaulted me. The police arrived at the end of that assault and took us to the courthouse, where he confessed, in detail, and that's when the restraining order against him was first put in place.

I'm tired of telling this story. Standing next to my unrepentant rapist while I told it was a new twist, certainly. But dear gods, I am tired of telling this story. Of saying it again and again to judges, to lawyers, to people who ask about it.

It's been two years. I have other stories now. Better stories. Stories that have nothing to do with him.

But while he continues to be unrepentant and vicious, to stalk and harass, I have to keep telling this story. And yeah. It's a way he gets to keep revictimizing me.

(He told the judge he was tired of looking over his shoulder. He's tired. Oh.)

My restraining order is renewed for another year.

Comments are closed on this post because I have nothing else to say about it. And I am going to immediately write a post about a story I like to tell. One without him in it.

A story I keep telling

Because at, I think, the last three parties, it's come up, and it makes me smile: How Matthew and I got together. :)

Last March, I went to a party. And there was this guy there who had amazing bouncy-puppy energy, who I was instantly drawn to. Not just because he's very attractive. :) But because he's silly, funny, smart. We had a great conversation, and I friended him on Facebook when I got home and, some days later, sent him a link to an interesting news story that had some bearing on a topic we'd talked about.

No response.

Okay, I thought, he doesn't want to pursue this. That's okay. Not everyone has to be into me! And I went about my life.

In June, there was another party. We chatted again, it was fun, I was still totally interested in him. About a week after that party, I did the same thing: "Great to see you again! Here is more info about X!"

Nothing.

Okay. *shrug* *kicks can* At this point I had a couple other things going on in my love life, no big deal, and if all I have with Matthew is fun conversations at parties, that's okay, because fun conversations are still good!

Halloween party. He's the Big Bad Wolf and not wearing much. I'm in my corset, leather vest, and elaborate headdress with seed pods and feathers. At some point in the party, we drift into conversation, sprawled on the floor in one of the social rooms, and then our thighs are pressed together, and then his hand is on mine...

...and at some point when we part, I'm laughing: "I thought you weren't interested!"

"What?"

The thing is that he is never on Facebook! (I checked while writing this; the last time he posted was in February. The time before that? Over a year ago.) And doesn't get notifications of FB messages. He had no clue. :)

So this time, I got his e-mail address. :)

When we met up for our first date, he cautioned me that he doesn't usually date. He does casual stuff, but if I was looking for a boyfriend, he was not where to look; his bond with his wife is so strong that he tends to just not form other bonds, and he's a homebody, and a date-every-week thing wasn't likely to happen. I told him, quite honestly, that that was fine. :) And we took up with each other. Casually.

Until we had a few weeks in a row when we didn't see each other and fell into each other's arms like long-lost lovers when we saw each other again.

Until someone at a party said "Wait, he actually leaves the house for you? He's never..."

Until he paused before leaving my house one date-day, and had this look when he looked back.

Until, finally, his amused/exasperated wife said "You can't stop talking about the gin Shira had you try, or the TV show she had you watch... Matthew. I think you might have a girlfriend."

He told me this while he was in the shower, through a frosted pane of glass, ending with "...would you be okay with that? Us actually being boyfriend and girlfriend?"

I slid the shower door open to grin at him. "Honey, you have a dedicated towel and toothbrush here. And I smile every time I walk past them."

So. Matthew, who doesn't date anyone, is dating me, and I am dating him, and together we have the kind of energy that makes random strangers grin at us on the street or when we greet each other at a restaurant. He is, above all else, playful. And adorable and adoring. When I had my bout of depression in April, one of the only things that consistently lifted me out of that flatline space was time with him.

He shines. I shine with him.

He is good for me. <3

I had a gathering recently that I'd had a bit of anxiety about, and he accompanied me, and we had a great time, and when he dropped me off home that night, he stopped me and kissed me again, and said "I'm so glad you pursued me, my Shira."

And he's on his way over right now, to accompany me to a night full of parties, and sleep over on the new bed he helped me build. I should go get ready. <3

EDIT: ...also he looks like Chris Evans as Captain America, but with dark hair and glasses, which make any person 20% hotter. But that kind of build. Also he volunteers with homeless kids and gives me amazing massages on bad pain days and he's just really nifty okay? okay.