Part 1

(Disclaimer: This will be the first of a miniature series of blogs that will reference a less-than-loving past relationship. This is the story of my abusive relationship and how I wound up in and out of it over the course of three years. Please see Content Warning before reading if you are concerned about the nature of the story, as I will not be leaving out any details. All names, places, and identities will be altered for no other reason than to avoid conflict. Changed names, locations, and other things deemed necessary will be marked with *.)

High school was rough. I hated it. Girls were mean, sports were tough, school work was boring, and although I knew everyone in the entire school, I could count on one hand the people I could actually call my friends. I grew up with two or three girls who were my best friends through thick and thin, but high school had a way of taking a toll on even the sturdiest of friendships at times. Eventually, we all parted ways. One became infatuated with graduating early, one was involved in a serious relationship with an older guy, and the other mounted her high horse and rode away. And then there was me.

I wasn’t too concerned with the fact that my friends and I had essentially taken different paths. By the time I was a junior, I was already the girl that no one’s parents would let them hang out with. I liked to party, sew me. Now, I have a college degree from a prestigious school, an amazing fiance, a fabulous career and I did it all without ever touching a single drug or stripping. But I can’t say the same for all the people who weren’t allowed to hang out with me back then, all because I liked to have more fun than most. Funny how those things work out, huh?

Any who, so school sucked. After I got in a little trouble for slipping some rum into my Sonic drink at a Friday night basketball game, I was done with my small town. I was over it. I didn’t care about all the pretentious parents that frowned upon me, I didn’t care about the person who ratted me out, I didn’t care about the fact that I would probably never play another sport again, and I didn’t care for the “lesson” the administration was trying to teach me by suspending me. Because truth be told, the vast majority of the junior class was either stoned or drunk at football and basketball games. Yes, even the kids of the pretentious parents who swore their little darlings would never commit to such explicit activity. I got busted, of all people. But I took my punishment with a grain of salt, as mad as I was, and I moved on with my life after it was all said and done.ex1

At the time, I had a boyfriend, *Brad. Another less-than-healthy relationship, but this guy doesn’t hold a candle to the person I’ll introduce later. We were just young, stupid and as dysfunctional as we could possibly be. My parents hated him and his grandparents hated me, and rightfully so on both accounts. We were in and out of a relationship and when the whole thing came crumbling down right around the time that I was suspended, it sent me over the edge. It didn’t help that most of my friends were friends with him, and a lot of them put me on the back burner to hangout with him more often than not. Fool me once, right?

He ended up moving to a different school, but not before hooking up with one or two of my “friends” and dragging my name through the mud. I decided after that that if I were going to date anyone else before college, they could not be any part of my small, shitty town. I needed an excuse to get the hell out of dodge every now and again.

Back then, in 2009, MySpace was the cool tool. I don’t even think I remember how to use it or how I even came across other people’s profiles. In fact, I don’t even remember how I came across *Jesse’s profile. But when I did, I noticed that he started liking a lot of my pictures and commenting on them. He looked very familiar, but I couldn’t figure out how. Then one day we started talking, and we seemed to hit it off right away. He was really nice, not exactly cute, but nice. He complimented and flattered me a lot more than I was use to from guys. We would talk via MySpace messenger for hours at night. However, during our nightly conversations, it was brought to my attention that both of our exes were also exes, which is exactly why he looked so familiar to me. Jesse’s relationship with *Talia had ended for whatever reason, and mine had ended with Brad because he had gone behind my back with Talia, which started a fire that neither of us were prepared to put out. It was just all downhill from there.

After about a week or so of talking with Jesse (I can’t remember the exact time frame), I agreed to meet up with him. I’m not an idiot, though. I made my friend, *Amy, join me. She was more than willing. He invited us to meet him at his own house, where he still lived with his mom because we were only 17 at the time, so it seemed safe enough. But I had an escape plan just in case things got weird. Too bad I never thought of a long-term escape plan.

When we pulled up, he was leaning up against a shabby car, smoking a cigarette. I thought he looked so cool, and apparently so did Amy. We got out off the car and he hugged us both, and we just started talking right there on the front lawn. Right away he had both of us laughing, so the first impression was actually better than I had hoped for. We went inside, hung out, talked about mutual acquaintances, etc., and then we left.

“He’s really cute, Corsi. And he’s so cool!” Amy told me as we were leaving.

I agreed with her 100%. I was already hooked at first sight, and from there we started spending more and more time together and without the safety net of a third party. We started dating immediately. I didn’t know exactly what I was getting myself into, but I am certain that I was desperate for attention and affection. I can’t think of any other reason that I would have fallen for a guy like him. We were polar opposites, but I was already broken and fresh out of a terrible relationship, he saw that, and played on my weaknesses to his advantage.

I started noticing pretty early on that he wasn’t extremely social; not while I was around anyways. When I was with him, all we did was hang out at his house. I watched him smoke pot and play video games, and that was about it. Every now and again he would call a friend and they’d come over and smoke pot and play video games, but the quality of time spent over there was boring and uninteresting. Again, I have no idea why I stuck around for even two weeks, because I am the polar opposite. I didn’t smoke pot, and I was extremely social. If I wasn’t at my house, I was at the nearest gathering of people that I could find. Our lives and personalities were completely different. But he constantly complimented me, bragged about me to his friends, told me I was way too good for him, and his mom seemed to like me, so I stuck around. The attention was flattering.

One day, I was with Amy at her aunts house in town when I received a message about Jesse that made my heart sink. We had only been together for two weeks. TWO WEEKS! The message, while I obviously don’t remember what was actually said, was something along the lines of “You might want to be careful with Jesse. Last weekend he was at *Shawn’s party and he was hooking up with other girls”. 

I was appalled, confused, and infuriated to say the least. Jesse never even seemed interested in going to parties because he barely ever left his house! I asked how the sender knew this information, and all I got in return was “Just talk to Jesse. I don’t want to be in the middle of this. Just thought you should know.” 

That particular day, while I was with Amy, Jesse was at one of his buddy’s houses. My first red flag should have been that he only left his house when I was not around. As much as I always wanted to go and do this-or-that, he always stayed at his house when I was with him. I called him, no answer. I called him again, no answer. So I texted him and he answered right away, of course. I asked about the whole ordeal and even gave him my source of information. He basically scolded me for even confronting him.

“Is this how it’s going to be?” Jesse asked me. Basically, if I was going to confront him about him cheating on me, this relationship was not going to work out (red flag #2). Of course he denied every bit of it, then he called me to inform me that he didn’t think it was going to work out between us. I was so upset and already felt so unloved and emotional that I begged him not to call it off. He literally had me eating out of the palm of his hand.

“I’m not in-check, Corsi,” he told me. By “in-check”, he was referring to the fact that he was going to do whatever he wanted to do, when he wanted to do it, without consent from anyone. He proceeded to let me know that the only way this relationship would work is if I understood that he wasn’t “my bitch”, and that he had no obligation to answer to me, but that he did not cheat on me the previous weekend, and that I just needed to chill out. I bought it. I was in no position to give up my relationship after the one I had just left. Although I was mad and upset, he refused to see me that day to even talk about it, face-to-face. He told me I needed to calm down, because it would just make him mad to see me. In his eyes, I had done him wrong by asking him about cheating on me, because that showed him that I didn’t trust him, and since we had only been together for two weeks, it was too early for that.

A few weeks later, I found out that he had, indeed, cheated on me that weekend. Not with one girl, not with two, but with four different girls. This time, my source came directly from a couple of the girls involved, including an outside party that had attended the party they were at. It all made sense, once it was explained to me. Their alibi was that they had no idea he had a girlfriend, yada-yada-yada. In fact, I remember leaving his house the night it had all happened, at his request. He told me he was going to do a few things and then go to bed. As I left through the front door, there were some people on his porch. A few questionable looking girls and the rest were his thug friends. I had no idea what they were doing there, but I assumed they were buying weed or bringing him some, and that those girls were their girlfriends. I thought nothing of it and went on my way.

To this day, I still have no idea what all happened that weekend, and I don’t care. This all happened within two weeks of my relationship with Jesse, and I still didn’t find that to be enough to leave him, when anyone in their right mind would have.

But clearly, I was not in my right mind.

To be continued…


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