Monday, August 07, 2006

The Stage Is Set

It was supposed to be two years on my own in the “college world.” Who would have thought those two years would be filled with dangerous situations that pushed myself to the limit.
I graduated with an associate degree in criminal justice from a small community college in central New York. This college laid the foundation for a career in criminal justice, but I hungered to learn more. One of my good friends, Dan, graduated with an associate degree in criminal justice alongside myself. Him and I were planning on attending the University of Albany after graduation in order to pursue a bachelor’s degree. Being in the same classes, Dan and I always heard good stories about Albany, how they are one of the top criminal justice schools in the nation, and how they use critical thinking to make students excellent criminal justice professionals. After some hard thinking both Dan and I decided to apply to the college; but unfortunately one of us wouldn’t make it.
I mean, we applied at the same time, but for some reason, Dan was the only one to get accepted. Since I didn’t want to wait another year to get my bachelor’s degree, I decided to search other colleges across New York State. I visited a website that listed all colleges that taught criminal justice, closed my eyes, and chose a college at random by pointing my finger onto the computer screen. It just so happens that my finger landed on a college in Western New York; I never heard about it nor of the place it was located in.
It was located in a small suburb south of a major Western New York city. The college itself teaches their students to analyze problems, which in turn makes them better problem solvers; a process called liberal learning.
After thinking about it long and hard, I decided to visit the college (actually my parents coaxed me into it, because I was still clinging on a faint glimmer of hope that my acceptance letter from Albany would arrive in the mail). So, one weekend, my family and I piled into the car and drove the three hour long drive to check the college out. The faculty, since the college was small, didn’t focus on the student as a name and number like Albany did, rather, they focused the student as a human being, and helped them out whenever problems arose; both personal and academically. The village itself seemed to be a safe environment with everything within close proximity to the college. Everything about the college seemed to fit nicely. After returning home from the trip, I did some more thinking, and finally decided that that college in Western New York was the path I would pursue.
My biggest concern once I arrived at that college was who my roommate would be. I always heard horror stories from graduates who said that their roommate was the roommate from hell; partying 24/7, was just plain mean, or practiced Satanism. The roommate I bunked with was named Sam; him and I would become very good friends. From the beginning, Sam and I got along very well; we stayed up late talking, entertaining other people from our wing, or just going to the mall to hang out. He was great to talk to, and we shared many happy moments.
After the first few weeks at the college, we met another resident named John, a highly outspoken individual with a downstate way of life; him too would become good friends with Sam and I. One day, I met John to play pool in the downstairs campus center. We did this not only to get to know each other some more, but also to have some fun and relax. It was at this time that he introduced me to a girl named Melissa. At first glance, you would wonder if I was crazy to date a woman like that, because she was overweight, and above all, a different ethnicity. No matter what people think, I always had this belief that beauty is skin deep and that it’s what’s on the inside that counts. Sure, Melissa might not have been the prettiest woman on campus, but she was kind, compassionate, and somebody whom I could trust; or at least I thought.
A few weeks after we met, we were going everywhere and doing everything together. It was after a while in the beginning of September, that we officially decided to call ourselves boyfriend and girlfriend. Now is the time for me to get a little personal, but it is essential to tell this in order to get a grasp as to why I made the critical decision to break things off with her. From the point we officially started our relationship in September to the time we ended the relationship in December, Melissa and I made out practically every day except during the weekends. I didn’t understand why we made out so often, but with me being a guy and making out with a woman almost daily was like a dream come true. By the end of our relationship, I realized why she was doing this; she wanted to have sex with me so she could get pregnant so she could own me.
From the beginning of our relationship, I made it quite clear to her that we were never to have sex unless we got married. It was a request that she stuck to, but it seemed like the deeper we got into our relationship, the closer we got to having intercourse. By the end of November, making out was getting very old, and it seemed that no matter what I said these sessions would continue, each time getting more intimate.
To make things even stranger, by the third month of our relationship, Melissa was beginning to talk about having children with me. She already determined how many she wanted and what she would call them. She told me immediately after that, that if I ever left her, she would do everything in her power to get back with me.
Another thing that raised a red flag in my mind was something she done during the peak of our relationship. Sam and I lived on the second floor of the residence hall at the college. On the first floor were the supply room and a small computer lab with a printer for the residents to work on. I needed to get some toilet paper for our dorm room and print something out on the computer. Melissa was in the dorm room with Sam and me, and she wouldn’t let me out of her sight. When she used our bathroom, I “escaped” the dorm room and quickly went downstairs to do my things.
I wasn’t gone for more than five minutes, but during that five minutes, she was tweaking out asking Sam where I was, and looking everywhere for me. She was so worked up she almost broke into a hyperventilating attack. It was from that moment that I knew I had to break things off before they got way out of hand for I knew she was not only possessive, but highly obsessive. I thought it would be a simple task; I didn’t realize how that simple task would test me like I never have been tested before.

These stories that are told on this blog are true. The names have been changed to protect the true identities of those individuals involved. If you would like to respond to this blog entry, please click on the envelope next to comments underneath this article. On the screen that appears, enter your name and your email address. Under "friend's email address" enter Senorgetman@yahoo.com. I will only accept emails under this fashion. DISCLAIMOR: THIS WEBSITE BY NO MEANS OFFERS LEGAL ADVICE TO VICTIMS OF STALKING AND DOMESTIC ABUSE. IF YOU ARE CURRENTLY A VICTIM OF STALKING AND/OR DOMESTIC ABUSE, PLEASE CONTACT YOUR LOCAL LAW ENFORCEMENT AGENCY IMMEDIATLEY.

2 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

My stalker is a man in the legal possession, he knows all the rules to escape capture. Eg always using a different person to leave messages at my house or on the net.

If anyone ever finds someone who has skills to catch him at him will be welcome.

8:38 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

My stalker is a man in the legal possession, he knows all the rules to escape capture. Eg always using a different person to leave messages at my house or on the net.

If anyone ever finds someone who has skills to catch him at him will be welcome.

8:38 PM  

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