I'm sure you've heard this a million times. I'm a 23 year-old male, and I've been living with my girlfriend of the same age for a little over a year now. We've been together for 18 months, and we've been disgustingly in love for every single minute of it. Neither of us have ever trusted someone so completely. Until a couple days ago, I had been the only person she's ever had sex with.

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We went to a party, I left early. She stayed, and got dangerously drunk. She doesn't remember it at all, but after further research a guy—a complete stranger—was helping her throw up in the bathroom and they ended up going at it right there. She gave no impression that it wasn't consensual, but I can't help but wonder if it borders on rape. I can't express strongly enough how out of character this is for her. Everyone I know has been completely blindsided by the news.

She told me as soon as she could scrape together what happened, and seems to have gone in to a nearly catatonic state. I decided that we need some time apart, so she's staying with a friend down the street.

I have no idea what to do, Dan. She desperately wants to come home, but I don't know if I can handle it. I know she won't do it again, but I don't know if I can look at her or touch her without thinking about that creep. I don't know if I really know her, if there's some deep-seated issue that needs to be addressed (she swears there isn't, that this was a complete fluke). She doesn't drink often, but I don't know if I need to get her to an AA meeting.

I think I want to fix this, but when she insists that it was a completely random accident that will never happen again how do I even start? If there's no underlying problem then what do we work on?

Too Lost To Think Of A Clever Acronym

My response after the jump.

•••••••••••

You are an asshole.

Sorry, TLTTOACA, but I had a bad morning—not nearly as bad as the mornings your girlfriend has no doubt had over the last few days—and I'm about to get on an airplane and I'm not in a coddlin' mood.

Now: I don't think that someone's been raped each and every time a person gets drunk and has sex. Sometimes a woman or a man gets drunk at party and, with the ol' inhibitions lowered by the booze, goes ahead and makes a conscious decision to cheat and is just capacitated enough to consent to sex that violates a commitment made to a live-in boyfriend/girlfriend/spouse/Fleshlight/whatever. But it sure sounds to me like your girlfriend was RAPED, you stupid motherfucker, first physically by the asshole at the party and then emotionally by the asshole at home.

She was black-out drunk and some guy—the asshole at the party—fucked her on the bathroom floor immediately after "helping her throw up"? And then you—the asshole at the home, the asshole who claims to love her—responded by throwing her out of the house?

OMFG.

Your girlfriend may be so wracked by guilt or regret or socialization that she can't see the "sex" she had at that party for the non-consensual assault that it was. But you should be able to, you stupid motherfucker. And her friends should be able to. (If she ever sees this, if she reads this: girl, you need a better boyfriend and better friends. And if you haven't gone to the police yet, you should.)

Backing up: I'm staggered that you would you respond to your girlfriend's victimization by ordering her to leave her apartment at a time when she needs to curl up in her own bed, surrounded by her own things, and be cared for by someone who loves her.

Someone else, apparently, someone other than you.

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Oh, gee. They're closing the doors: LET HER COME HOME, you asshole. And if you can't be around her right now, THEN YOU GET OUT.

Okay, I have to run—there's so much more I'd like to address. But I trust that folks will have lots to say in comments about catatonic states, your desire to make this all about you (and how devastated you were to learn that some other man had touched your personal property), TLTTOACA, and how your selfish, self-centered, and sadistic response to your girlfriend's RAPE is the problem here.

I'm glad I'm in First Class today—because, fuck AA, I need a drink.