Is it normal to not know if this is sexual abuse or rape? 13 yo cousin

This is long--I apologize--I've been wrestling with this fear/insecurity/memory/guilt fest for almost 7 years now.

**Background** I had a 13 year old first cousin who I met once when I was a 5 year old and he was 2, and never saw him until our grandpa died one summer.

He was 13 and I was 16, I think I initially probably thought he was cute, before realizing he was my cousin...then I felt guilty about thinking that. He was close to our grandpa, so I guess it was hard for him at this time. The night after the funeral, he was sleeping in my room, me on the twin bed, he on the floor next to me. We got along fine, friendly and agreeable. **I blacked this memory out for around 5 years** It comes back in flashes, and I don't recall the exact sequence of events leading up to him being in my bed, kissing me, touching me, and eventually fingering me. I think he went down on me, but I had not had anyone do anything to me, so I remember being present or aware again as I was having an orgasm. It was dark in the room, and I gut feeling think I didn't know exactly what was happening. I went to the bathroom and remember feeling this glow after. I think at 16 I interpreted this as love? His family was much poorer than mine, so after this week, my parents invited him to come live with us to turn his life around. I didn't tell my parents not to, my mom even thought she saw a hickie on my neck that I didn't know was there. As we left to the airport to go home, he held my hand in the car from between the seats and I hid it with a jacket. I remember feeling special, but everything feeling REALLY REALLY wrong.

**Fast forward to August**

He came to live with us, and I think on the first night, he came into my bedroom and was talking to me about what had back at our grandmas. I told him it couldn't happen again and that nothing was going to happen here, my dad would kill him. He just kept talking about how sexy it was and how good it made him feel and how sad he was about our grandpa. I didn't know what to say after more than an hour of saying no. I think he went to his room, which was just down the hall, and stayed there, maybe (pretending) to be hurt by my rejection. He was telling me that he loved me and I told him that was crazy and wrong. I texted him and apologized for turning him down, but that it was wrong and he was not into me, he was just being perverted. Later that night he came into my room, I remember the lights being dim, so watching TV on my computer most likely. I think he watched with me? I couldn't tell you how things escalated, I really can't remember anymore. But I remember not wanting to lose my virginity to him. I wanted that to be special, but he kept being so persistent, even though we had been making out. (I think)...and instead of giving up my vaginal virginity, I let him have sex with me in the butt. It was really rough, and he didn't use any lube, but it was better than my vag, i didn't want him to do that. I don't know if he came inside me. I remember it hurting, but just taking it. He did this a few times, and during the day he would text me about loving me and being into me and I would say it was wrong, but it stopped working. He wouldn't stop, and I guess I just mirrored the things he was saying, I don't know if this is how I felt or because saying no again, was not making him want to do me any less. I didn't know what to do.

After that night, things escalated quicker and quicker each time he would come to my room at night, even though I kept saying it was wrong and we shouldn't. I feel bad because sometimes it felt good. I really didn't want it to feel good, but he would go down on me and it got me there every time. I feel so shameful about it. I don't remember how long it took, but he would flirt with me when my parents weren't looking and he would act like my boyfriend, even though I knew it was wrong the whole time. I was ashamed that this was happening, but a part of me felt loved in an extremely wrong way. The next memory I have is somehow him and I being in his room, and we're fooling around, Not sure. But we were in his room and we ended up fooling around, he went down on me, and then soon after, he was inside me. 3 pumps. and I had an orgasm. I felt bad, but then we went to my room and we did it again, this time he had me on top. It kept happening, probably about a dozen times in the span of the 6 months he lived there. Complete honesty, at this point I'm not sure if I was into it, tired of saying no, knowing it wouldn't work, afraid he would tell my dad, or just in denial of the situation and going with it? I know during the sex a lot of the time I wasn't mentally present, whether I was an active participant or just..well being screwed. I was worried he would get me pregnant, and being so young neither of us had condoms.

The most punishing night, probably of my life, was needing to find out if I was pregnant and having to sneak out of my house with him to walk to Walmart, 6 miles away in a big city, and walk there and back to find out if the worst was happening. Thank god, it was negative, but after that night, I started noticing he had stolen some things from my room (iPod, money, etc) and so I made more things disappear and told my parents. He had apparently stolen from them as well, and he was sent home.

I have carried so much guilt and shame about this and I can't gain clarity on whether I was raped, sexually assaulted, molested, abused, idk the terminology for a situation like mine. I said no, but it didn't work, I stopped saying no, I don't know why. I worry that because I was older, I should have known not to allow any advances, or flirtations the first time it happened at the funeral. Or worse, that the memories I've blocked out are memories of me doing something to him or something really wrong that I can't remember. I don't think that's the truth, but I'm afraid I didn't stop it soon enough and I let my ego get stroked and then the rest happened. I feel responsible for not stopping it sooner, or telling my parents, but I feel like my dad would have called me a whore and blamed it on me, then possibly hurt him, or taken him out. What if he thinks I am the rapist and I don't have clarity about the situation? I worry if I hurt him, but I feel like I'm betraying myself by worrying for someone who has caused such a painful scar. He's now in jail, and had been there for several years.