dear stalker,

i realize that my hot 12 year old body was pretty hard to resist, especially since i styled it so well with my white scrunchies and purple hypercolor tshirts.  but your hundreds of voice messages on the answering machine, when coupled with the almost daily notes passed to me in class (intricately folded in strange triangles) was, in a word: OVERBEARING.

i thought the simple “i don’t like you” would suffice, but alas it only inspired you to pursue other strange manners of attention getting.  you paid the girl with the locker next to me to get her locker; you memorized my class schedule and followed me from class to class so i was forced to walk outside in the freezing cold to avoid you; you regularly humiliated me by identifying whoever i had a crush on and then threatened them with bodily harm if they ever expressed any interest in me.  i still remember the exhilaration i felt when david called me…then the bitter disappointment when he said that he had just called to tell me that you threatened to break all the bones in his body and mine too so i couldn’t get away. and then there was the fact that you consulted a psychic about me. not sure what THAT was about.

ah, young love.

i think the last straw was when you hid behind my house masturbating that one night…. or maybe it was a year later when i was in high school and i heard the distrubing story from a guy that played pop warner football with you about the mess you made while masturbating to my yearbook photo. hard to pinpoint the exact moment you stepped over the line, but it was somewhere in there.

hope you aren’t still hiding outside!

the object of your obsession