For about 6 years, I was in love with Jesse (thattallsummonerguy). We first met when I was 16. He was 24 at the time. He promised me he had no ill will or inappropriate intentions, just wanted to be friends. I was there for him when he pursued a relationship with a different girl and it soured. I was there when he met his ex girlfriend (yes. EX GIRLFRIEND despite the years of her being “just a friend”.) When he moved out to California, he told me that part of the reason was so he could have a chance with me. I was 17 at the time. He was 25.
Almost every night I would watch him kiss his girlfriend goodnight and it would soon be followed by requests to remove my top. I obliged, because I really really liked him. I loved the attention and how kind and sweet he was. No one had ever treated me the way he had as I had been so depressed and anxious and dealing with bullying throughout my high school years. Mentally ill enough, suicidal enough to be admitted to a mental hospital twice. I was in no position to be pleasing a 25 year old man at 17. I was no position for him to be screenshotting me while I sat there topless for him. He would tell me that I didn’t look or act 17, I looked and acted 23. Despite everything, I was still 17 years old.
And then it progressed and he made plans to visit. PCC 2014 he took my virginity (consenually, though I was still SEVENTEEN) and when my sister claimed I had been raped I couldn’t believe her. The skype calls got more graphic after that. More skin, more screenshots. That’s when his girlfriend found out. Then the hellstorm came where everyone blamed me for being a homewrecker. This is where the manipulation started to run deeper. He pitted his now ex girlfriend against me and me against her. Instead of taking the blame, he flipped the narrative on us both and we ate each other alive over it.
I visited him on Christmas one year and my car broke down. My parents weren’t able to get me until the weekend and neither of us had money for a hotel. She wasnt happy about it and Jesse nearly got us into a wreck in a heated argument over the phone with her. That same visit he decided he wanted to know what I was like drunk. So he fed me shots of Jim Beam and a few of Bacardi 151 and the last thing I remember before blacking out was asking him not to take advantage of me and his hand sliding up my shorts. When I came to, I was in pajamas and vomiting. He then took me to Taco Bell at my drunken request and used the money I was saving for gas to get home to pay for it. Somehow, we got on the topic of his ex. I was still inebriated and so emotional from it all, I got heated very very quickly. I yelled at him and weakly hit his shoulder. His reaponse was to choke me and put me up against the passenger side door until I clawed at his hands. He apologized and drove us back to the apartment as if nothing happened. The next morning, my mom had to rescue me at a gas station in Tempe because I had no money to get home and I completely missed work.
The next incident was Taiyou. We were in our hotel alone and he asked me to do a strip tease out of the lingerie I was wearing while he watched. I cheekily replied as to why I should. He got up, marched over to me and put a hand around my throat. What I remember is feeling my feet leave the floor, staring at the ceiling and then nothingness. I never understood what people meant when they said their life flashed before their eyes but after that I do. When I came to, I was on the floor and he was there, still holding me down and asking if I understood. I started crying. Only then did he realize something was wrong. He apologized and said what a monster he was. After that he cried. I spent that night consoling him.
Visits came more frequently and with that, increased fighting. He somehow always made me the villian. I was always wrong. Never was I ever in the right for calling him out or demanding respect or fairness. I admit there were moments where I was unresonable but they are few and far between and never warranted the reaction he provided. He attempted suicide twice while knowing me. He knew just how to scare me into conceding and that’s how he did it. The threat of it happening again.
Behind closed doors it was worse. I was constantly on edge and defensive because of him. He used this to make me feel horrid and would tell me how much a bitch I came off as.
It was always brief periods of good times followed by hell fire. Wash, rinse, repeat. Meanwhile I am not realizing what’s happening. I’m wasn’t spending as much time with friends or family just to talk to him or spend time with him. He became priority.
The worst happened after we moved in together. The first two months were fine. January came and it all started falling apart. The stress of work and rent and bills hit hard and I felt so unprepared. This is when I started to notice Jesse’s “habits”.
We shared a bed. He is a mechanic. He gets dirty because of his job. He would not shower and would lay on clean sheets with his oil, grime and sweat covered body.
He would complain about wanting to go to the gym, but would only go if I would and then would proceed to blame me for his weight gain when I refused to go.
He would complain about the state of the apartment but rarely did much but dishes and sweep. He would only clean if I would. No ifs, ands or buts.
He would spend money recklessly and then ask me for help. He got a 1500 dollar loan to help with rent when I got bronchitis for two weeks and couldn’t work. He proceeded to spend a large portion of it on a curved 4k tv, a ps4 and a sound system and a hand full of games. I can’t remember where the rest of the money went.
Now, imagine this on a year long loop. I was a frayed nerve. Absolutely depressed and lost.
It got bad when we had a blow out fight not too long after moving in and he turned to me and said “its you Camy. You’re the problem. I give us one year before I leave you.” (Fun fact: it was exactly a year from moving in to breaking up.) I was devastated. I feel into a deep pit. I became suicidal again. I functioned robotically through my days. He blamed me for his weight, the mess in our room, how broke he was, anything you could think of.
“You’re making YOUR friends think I’m an abuser”
I stopped talking to my friends about our fights
“I can’t believe you would go to your family with petty shit like that and make them think I’m abusing you”
I stopped telling my family about our struggles.
During fights, he would back me into corners. When I would square up against him and act unafraid, he would grab me and toss me onto our bed. He would touch me when I asked him not to. He would lock me into hugs. He threw things just close enough to scare. He closed doors on me and prevented me from going to work on three seperate occassions.
He told my close friends and family
“I always say we should come see you more but Camy never wants to.”
Never in my life have I ever felt so hurt and so isolated by the person I loved so much. He made me feel alone. He made me think he was the only one I had and he was making moves to make sure of it.
And he always was there after it all. To hold me and tell me he was sorry that he wouldn’t do it again. He lied. Over and over and over. It would always happen again and it would be worse the next time round.
I think the worst part of being away from his is realizing how many times I didn’t want to have sex but I gave in anyway. I knew the fighting would be worse if I didn’t. I knew he would push until I gave in. There were times where I cried afterwards. I would tell him it was just intense, but I now know it was because I wasn’t fully consenting to him having sex with me. Not only that but I never once was able to have an orgasm with him (or anyone really.) And he guilted me horribly over it. He would say things to make it seem like he was shitting on himself but it was all just to make me feel horrible for the fact that I wasn’t enjoying sex with him.
When the break up came, I didn’t want it to happen. I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t want my single lifeline to be cut. I felt like dying. I felt like I was drowning. I was angry. I spent time away with family and despite his promises to give me space, he called nearly every day. He would argue for hours over the phone. When I came back to the apartment to pack my things he tried desperately to convince me he still “loved” me. He chose to do this by helping me move and breaking boundaries by sleeping in the bed when he promised he’d take the couch. The final straw was when he pushed me against a wall and tried to make out with me. I pushed at him, I struggled but he didn’t stop until I went completely limp and cried. He then proceeded to bust into our roommates room and sit on her floor and cry about how he wanted to marry me. How he had a ring picked out. How he still loved me. I moved out very quickly after that. I was afraid of him. I still am.
It wasn’t too long after, I found out I wasn’t the only one. I wasn’t the first girl he’s treated this way. I likely won’t be the last.
Thattaallsummonerguy (jesse) is an abusive predator who targets underaged girls and abuses any woman who comes emotionally close to him. He was sexual with me from the time I was 16 and now denies any of his wrongdoings. He lies and tries to insert himself into the LGBTQIA+ community and make himself seem like a “soft cuddly gentle giant” type. The reality is that he is a predator. He is dangerous.
