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I soon discovered that it was him. He followed me everywhere I went, would show up in the craziest places.
There wasn’t much I could do about it, even after I reported him to the police, but because he usually kept his distance there wasn’t any way to press charges. A few times, he tried to ask me out, but usually, he just watched me. I feel sick just thinking about him. It’s been a while since I last saw him, but I know he’ll show up again at some point. I can feel it in my bones. I haven’t seen the last of my stalker.
There’s a fine line between pure obsession and love. I want a man who thinks of nothing but me, but I guess if I love him back equally then the unhealthiest desires don’t matter so much. It doesn’t matter if we’re codependent so long as it’s what we both want. But whatever it is that Matt wants from me, I can’t provide. I’ll never love him. Never want a man who has nothing better to do than follow me around, hoping I’ll fall for him.
I shudder again and try not to think about him.
I don’t want any reason to have him on my mind when I’ve tried so hard to escape him. I need to get back to thinking about my story. I stare at the blank screen. How can I write about love when I’ve never experienced it? Maybe I should give up on that concept and write about my stalker instead. At least I can say I’m writing what I know.
I hear another whine from next door, followed by scratching on the walls. I take off my headphones, feeling huffy. I might be overreacting, but how am I supposed to study when there’s so much noise going on around me?
Can I really go over there and give this person a piece of my mind?
I’m not an overly confident person, but I’m also not the kind of person who just lets others walk all over me. It’s becoming a real inconvenience. Since I got here yesterday, the noise has been almost non-stop. I could hear it last night when I was trying to sleep. I can’t take too much more of this. My dad didn’t mention how noisy it would be here…
I know that this is becoming an excuse not to sit down and write, but I need to stretch my legs for a while anyway. I’ve barely left my chair all day and I’ve not written a single word. Days like this are for getting other things done. Starting with confronting the neighbor.
I make sure I look presentable in the mirror, smoothing out my auburn hair and fixing my dress. I’m pretty sure that dad wouldn’t be happy if he knew I’m about to go and stir up trouble with his neighbor.
In fact, I’m pretty sure that he told me that he’s pretty good friends with the neighbor. But enough is enough. If I don’t do something about it it’ll drive me insane.
I square my shoulders and walk out of the apartment, standing outside the neighbor’s door for a long moment before knocking.
I almost immediately regret my decision. What on earth am I going to say? I’m going to sound like an utter idiot. But if I don’t say anything at all, then I’ll just have to suffer in silence.
I chew my lip, hoping I don’t look like some dumb, spoiled child right now. I just need some peace and quiet for a while.
I can hear movement inside the apartment and something scurrying around. Whatever it is is what’s making the noise, I’m sure of it. The scurrying is followed by footsteps and I hold my breath, feeling a little sick. There’s still time to run back into the apartment and pretend nothing happened. Yet I’m glued to the ground. There’s no chance I’m leaving now, even if I wanted to.
I hear the doorknob rattle and then turn. As the door opens, I hold my breath and let my eyes drift up to the person standing in the doorway…
And my heart stops entirely.
The neighbor, whoever he is, is so goddamn attractive I’m sure I feel my jaw hit the floor.
He’s at least twice my age, but that doesn’t bother me one bit. Not when his steely blue eyes are on mine. Not when his gray-streaked hair looks like something I want to run my finger through.
My heart is racing just at the straight of him.
He’s wearing a tight shirt that shows off the muscles in his arms, his broad shoulders, and chiseled chest. I never expected to be so attracted to an older man, but now, as I look at him, it seems impossible that I’d ever want anyone else.
And all of a sudden, I have something to write about. I have a man to make my muse. I want him impossibly and completely. I stare him down, wondering why I can’t remember what life was like before this moment. Before I saw him. Before I knew he existed. Because now that I know he exists, I can never unknow it. I can never be the same again.
