This is a continuation of my interactions with a colleague of mine – J.R. – whom I met during the 2014 spring semester at the University of Memphis. If you haven’t already read Part 1, feel free to do so here.
Looking back at this story, even I am surprised at some of the decisions I made. Was I really this passive, only a few years ago? That’s why they say hindsight is 20/20.
It was the first week of summer vacation, and J.R. and I mutually decided that it was best for us not to see each other anymore. At this time in my life, I didn’t really have anyone nearby who I could consider a close friend. My sister, who was and always will be my best friend, lived in Chattanooga, TN at the time, a whopping 6 hours away from Memphis. And while I had lots of acquaintances, it was never easy to click with individuals around me on a friendship level.
For these reasons, even though J.R.’s and my interactions had turned a bit sour in the last few weeks, I was still sad to loose him, because good friends were hard to come by.
After a three week break, I enrolled in two summer courses at the U of M and didn’t hear from or run into J.R. once. It was amazing how quickly I seemed to move on from him. As usual, I buried myself in my studies, and did everything I could to learn all there was to know about Calculus I, no doubt the more challenging of the two courses I was taking (the other being Spanish 2).
I feel like so much happened that Summer semester. I could write a whole story on that experience alone. But the gist of it is, I had an awesome summer, aced both my courses, and began the 2014 Fall semester with a full load and an eager spirit. I certainly wasn’t thinking of J.R. at all, so you can imagine my surprise when I happened to run into him one afternoon in the beginning of the Fall 2014 semester.
I was walking across campus, not going anywhere in particular, when I recognized J.R. walking towards me. I thought, Oh dang! J.R.! I almost forgot he still goes here! How is this going to go down?
We awkwardly walked closer to each other. At least it was awkward for me; I didn’t know whether to make eye contact or run in the opposite direction. But in the typical J.R. style, he hugged me, wrapping his arms tightly around me, immediately upon us meeting.
He then smoothly pulled out his phone and showed me pictures of a Comic-Con event he attended over the summer. He had cosplayed as Darth Vader (or possibly some other character. I honestly don’t remember, but it was cool), and he also showed me some awesome costumes that other people wore.
As usual, we connected effortlessly as if nothing happened. And since I had spent the entire summer without any form of contact with him, I seemed to have conveniently forgotten why we broke things off in the first place. I just remembered the fun times, and he had brightened my evening so far, so when he invited me up to the UC 3rd floor, I obliged.
It did not take me long, however, to realize that accompanying him was a mistake. J.R. and I were having such a fun afternoon walking and talking together, then he had to ruin it all by trying to get me to straddle him while we were on the 3rd floor. I don’t remember exactly how it escalated to that, but I do remember that he tried to pin me to the wall, and I had to duck under his arm to get out of his grasp. Then he sat down on a couch, and grabbed my hips, trying to pull me down on top of him. I had to repeatedly yell “No, NO, NOO!” as I twisted and turned and made up Kung Fu moves to get away from him.
Yeah, now I remember. I sighed as I walked away and sat on a couch by myself far away from him. He’s just gotten too aggressive.
You’d think by then I’d have finally learned my lesson. I only saw J.R. sparingly, but every time I did see him, it’s like I’d forgotten what he was capable of.
We kept in touch over the phone, but I always declined to meet him at the 3rd floor. However, when Mockingjay Part 1 came out in theaters that November, I agreed to go see it with him, since the Hunger Games had been a franchise that we both had loved for a long time. I saw the movie with him and felt annoyed that he seemed to want to hold my hand or lean his head on my shoulder the entire time. I just wanted to pay attention to the movie, not deal with this drama. I made a mental note not to see Mockingjay Part 2 with him the following year.
After the movie, we began to drift again. Every few months, he would text me out of the blue, and we’d have a conversation, catch up on things, joke around as if everything was normal, but I hardly ever saw him in person anymore.
So when a year passed by, and he asked me to see Mockingjay Part 2 with him, I remembered my mental note, and declined without explanation. I think it must have really hurt him when I told him no. From his perspective, we seemed to be getting along very well via text, and we seemingly had fun seeing Mockingjay the previous year. My rejection came as a surprise.
A few days after I turned down his invite, he told me that he was trying to start over and take the friendly approach with me. He told me that he still really likes me, and he wanted us to be close like we used to be. Then he asked me if I was interested, or if he should stop.
I took a deep breath and told him what he needed to hear. I told him that as of lately, I found him to be too pushy and aggressive. I told him that he often tried to get physical with me, even after I tell him no. I told him that I wasn’t interested in pursuing any type of relationship and that he should probably stop.
Seeing as he fell silent for several months after that, he seemed to accept it. But J.R. is J.R. It’s never that easy.
Towards the end of the Spring 2016 semester, more than two years after I initially met him, he texted me again. This is the part I really hate. This is the part I wish I could change. I hadn’t heard from J.R. in several months, and, like a vicious cycle, I remembered all the fun we used to have, and was eager to hear how he was doing.
We connect easily, and it turns out, he had been getting into competitive Pokémon battling.
Here’s another thing you should know about me. I love Pokémon. In the summer of 2015, I joined a Pokémon Facebook group, and have been competitively battling in organized tournaments and gym battles since then. I’ve even become a Ghost Type Gym Leader in my group, so I take this stuff very seriously. J.R. was speaking my language, and he had awoken within me a newfound desire to competitively battle with him.
J.R. invited me to come over to his apartment that he had recently moved into. In hindsight, it’s so obvious to me that going over to his apartment would be a bad idea. With so many signs he had already shown, why would I risk it? He said we would battle each other in Pokémon – the latest game out (and one of my all-time favorites to this day) was Omega Ruby and Alpha Sapphire – and if we had time, we’d watch a movie afterward.
I think that I at least had enough sense not to spend any evenings with him, so I agreed to go over to his apartment at 10 am on a Sunday morning. He had to go to work that day at 1 pm, so that also gave us a limit on how long we’d have to hang out.
So J.R. lives in a nice gated community. Not too shabby. He invited me in, gave me a quick tour, and seeing as he had very little furniture in the rest of his place, we ended up chilling out on his bed, which was a full-sized mattress that laid on the floor with no foundation.
I sat cross legged on his bed and pulled out my DS, the handheld device that I use to play Pokémon. Instead of bringing out his own device, he sat there sending me a genuine smile. “I’m just happy you’re here.” He mentioned. I shrugged and returned the smile. We hadn’t seen each other in months.
So I tilted my screen to him and showed him some of my Pokémon. I showed him all my favorites, showed him my go-to ghost team that I used for gym battles, and showed him the Pokémon I was currently training, using all sorts of Pokémon jargon such as natures, abilities, EVs and IVs to elaborate my passion.
J.R. at least was able to keep up with some of my jargon. He knew what I meant when I said I wanted to breed an Adamant nature on my Cuebone.
“Seems like everyone is trying to get Adamant.” he mentioned.
“There’s lots of physical attackers out there. I like speed, so I usually go for Jolly.”
So I had successfully shown him my whole team, and he had yet to even pull out his DS. “Alright, let’s battle!” I prompted him. “I want to see what you got!”
Here is where his demeanor changed. “You see, the thing is, I actually loaned my DS to my little cousin for the weekend. I didn’t want to tell you because then I thought you wouldn’t come.”
That statement alone changed the tone of the whole morning. The only reason I was over there was to play Pokémon. I realize now how silly that statement sounds, but back then, I was obsessed with the game! I wanted more local friends to play Pokémon with and I jumped at the chance to play the game with J.R., but now he didn’t even have his console.
And he didn’t want to tell me because he thought I wouldn’t come otherwise? Of course he’s right, but I don’t need that form of manipulation. Hasn’t he ever heard of rescheduling? What the heck am I doing here if we’re not playing Pokémon?
All these thoughts rushed through my head at once, but I didn’t say anything. I slowly turned off my DS, put it away, and looked at him with a blank expression. I don’t know what my face looked like. I don’t know if he took it as an invitation.
I don’t remember exactly how it all started, but he began wrestling with me. Pinning me down, and placing his hands in areas they never should have gone.
“No, get off!” I yelled. Mind you, I don’t do anger well. I was angry with him, but it came out as laughter and playful energy.
Everywhere he touched me was over the clothes, but he grabbed my boobs, he grabbed my butt, he dry humped me, rubbing his member against different areas of my body. Every time I pushed him away, he came back with more energy.
I remember distinctly when he had me pinned beneath him on the bed. He locked my arms above my head with both of his arms. It was mind boggling how much stronger he was than me. I may as well have been locked down with cement for all the good my struggling was doing.
With him having me pinned where he wanted me, he used his mouth to lift up my shirt. “No! No! No! Stop! Stop! Stop!” I screeched. He completely ignored me and licked my belly button as I was pinned under him.
I involuntarily squealed at the sensation, likely giving him more positive reinforcement. I couldn’t believe what was happening. How did I get myself into this situation? Then I mentally slapped myself. Stupid, you came over here willingly, even after you knew he had aggressive tendencies.
As soon as the wrestling died down and he let me up, I got off the bed and went to get some water in the kitchen, opting to stay there a minute as I sat on one of the high stools. After a minute or two, he came to join me. “Are you alright?” he asked.
I didn’t answer right away. There were still so many thoughts swimming in my head. “I just find it alarming,” I finally said, “how much I’m at your mercy here. If you wanted to do anything to me, I wouldn’t have any physical means to stop you.”
Here’s where you’d think a decent guy would reassure you that he would never hurt you. Even if he dropped that cliché line, I wouldn’t have believed him in the moment, but it still would have been ten times better than what he actually did say.
“You know I’m holding back right? Because what I really want to do is rip your clothes off.”
“I know that!” I needed to get out of his apartment ASAP. My belongings were still in his bedroom. I kept sipping my water and pondered my escape.
Fortunately, it was getting to be around the time that he needed to leave for work. I nonchalantly entered his room and picked up my shoes, my purse, and my game and told him I was leaving.
He grabbed me some more and tried to start wrestling again, but this time, I didn’t react. I was so done. He threw me on the bed? I got up and started walking out. He blocked my entrance out the bedroom? I ducked under his arm and continued walking. He grabbed my arm and pulled me into his embrace? I became a statue and gave him a cold stare. I eventually made it to the front door where his last tactic was to grab my waist and dry hump me again.
“J.R. just stop it!” I yelled and opened the door.
“Girl, what you doing? You trying to let all the neighbors see?” I rolled my eyes and walked away. He did follow slowly behind me to be a “gentleman” and walk me to my car, but I didn’t acknowledge him at all. As it turns out, this gated community required coded access to leave as well as to enter, so he actually had to let me out of the property himself. That fact pissed me off even more than I already was. What if I had to run for my life? I’d need to ask my attacker for permission to leave?
I drove straight home and went to sleep, despite it being the middle of the day. I was physically and emotionally exhausted. J.R. texted me, saying “I hope you made it home safely.” I completely ignored his text, and all his other texts for the next few days. I knew I was eventually going to have to confront him, but I was just sick of him and wanted to forget his existence for a while.
So when did I find my voice? I’m afraid that will have to be told next time. This long tale is almost over, but we’re not there yet.
For all my readers, thank you for making it this far. This story is not easy to tell, especially because it makes me look like a fool, but I feel like there’s at least one person out there that needs to hear it.
Let me know your thoughts in the comments below. Also! Consider joining my mailing list, so that you don’t miss the conclusion to this bizarre account.
Stay classy!
