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Wednesday, November 29, 2017

I'm Not Friends with my Ex

A few weeks ago, I received an external message on Facebook. Glancing at the name for a second and tilting my head in familiarity, I opened it. And after I opened it, I immediately regretted it. This random message wasn't from an old friend I haven't seen since college or a distant relative--this message was from ex-boyfriends mother..

"Hello! I miss you too! How are you? I hope fine. We are all doing very well. Michael and I live in Nashville now! We love it!"

Pause. Let me explain why this infuriates the absolute SHIT out of me....

This relationship that I terminated years ago was moving way too fast. And by way too fast, I mean, his family was asking when we were going to get married and pop out children. I had only been dating this dude for 6 months. Go ahead and marinate on that for a second--six months.

Back in the day when I was circling the dating pool, I immediately would put an expiration date on a relationship if children was something my partner wanted.  Oh?  You want kids?  Yep, we are definitely NOT going to last.  Having children isn't for me (read all about that here).

After letting the relationship die rather quickly, I finally terminated it via text while he was visiting his family for the holidays back in his hometown of Tennessee.  I know, I know--I'm the worst.  Whatever.  After I ended things, I changed my status on Facebook like every twenty-something-year-old girl does.  This caused both positive and negative results.  On one side--people were happy my relationship was over because they knew I was miserable.  But on the other hand, I received Facebook warfare from his family.  They claimed that I put him on blast just because I changed my status from 'in a relationship' to 'single'.  Oh--I'm sorry.  Was I supposed to run that by you first?  My bad...

The whole thing went up in smoke.  I was unfriended from all the members of his family.

Fast forward to present day, I read the message twice and completely declined to accept it.  And because I have difficulty letting shit go without overanalyzing the shit out of it first--I began to do the most epic of breakdowns of the event's that had transpired and what may or may not have motivated her to send such a piece of shit message.  She had started out the message as if I hadn't spoken to her in a few weeks versus a few years.  It was such a chummy greeting.  The breakup between her son and I wasn't exactly the best.  I broke up with him over text during Christmas! The worst of the worst! Obviously--I didn't give a shit about your son since I discarded him so carelessly. 

Like a pointless wordy math problem--I just didn't fucking get it.

  I couldn't help but feel that it was piles of bullshit caked beneath a fake exterior. 
How am I doing?  You miss me?  Listen to me lady--I haven't talked to you in years and on top of that I was never close to you.  Actually, I was never truly close to any of his family members.  Her comment reminded of that one relative who gives you the most awkward of awkward greetings; 'last time I saw you, you were this tall.'  Yeahhhhh--I fucking hate that and thank you for stating the obvious.  Also-- I didn't experience any feelings of 'loss' once all communication had ceased.  Its not like I lost any sort of sleep when I broke up with your son nor did I shed any tears after disconnecting from you and the rest of his family members.  I know I sound like a huge heartless bitch at the moment, but I'm just being honest.  If I was so broken up about it--wouldn't I have reached out?  The point is--reaching out to me was a giant waste of time.  What purpose was it serving to reach out to me?  You and I hardly know each other.  This all felt like a cheap attempt at creeping back into my life just to see what was going on with me so it can be reported back to the dinner table.  

And I hate when people do that.

I'm not friends with any of my ex-boyfriends.  All my past relationships have burst into flames one way or the other after upon termination.  There was never a mature, clean break from any of them.  After a few 'fuck you's and other colorful choice words'--the possibility of friendship is diminished and beyond any sort of cosmic repair.  There's a reason why we broke up.  That's why you're my ex and NOT my boyfriend.  So the remaining question here is;

Why the fuck would I want to be friends with you?

To give you some much extra perspective of my world--I have to let you in something here--all my past relationships started as romantic instead of something platonic.  Sorry--that's just how it came to be.  Some folks are different--they like to build a foundation from friendship and then pursue a romantic relationship.  I do admit that type of route is wise but it presents an issue in my eyes.   I've never been one to just date someone from my circle of friends because I didn't want to ruin our friendship.  I know its the oldest excuse in the book, but its true.  I'd rather keep my friendship than dismissing them to live in exile with the rest of my past relationships.  

The Ex in Ex-Boyfriend stands for Exile...

Once a relationship has ended--they are exiled.  Permanently.  Now--to play devil's advocate (because that's in league with me traveling to the land of hypotheticals) I have tried in the past to be friends with an ex boyfriend.  But it wasn't entirely upon my own accord.  There's this phrase that my mother uses quite often and you may have heard this quite a bit and that is; 'be the bigger person'. Coining that term during these situations gave me this weird obligation to be mature and nice. And then it hit me after going several rounds in the ring with these assholes--

I'm not obligated to be nice to anyone.   

It's true.  You literally aren't.  My mother's views are obviously different from my own.  She's always about doing the 'right' thing.  She's all about 'being the bigger person'.  As I see it-- my mother is out playing nice with zero grudges.  She's out to be an adult. And here I am having visions of my ex boyfriends getting in a car wreck or contracting a flesh eating virus.  That's because I'm fueled by feelings of anger and resentment.  I can't help it.  That's just who I am.  I'm an angry lady who can't let shit go and shouldn't be obligated to do so.  I've realized now more than ever that as an angry person--things set me off quicker and quicker as I get older--and nothing sets me off more than an ex trying to peek in and out of my life. 

I can't be friends with a person that I can't stand anymore.

 The very last thing that I want is for an ex to be given the freedom of knowing what's going on in my life.  In doing so--I make it a point not to provide any line of communication.  I'm fortunate that I'm able to cut them off the way that I have.  I am not attached to them in any way.  With that being said--I know it's not easy for some people.  There are people who don't want to lose that person since so many years were spent with that one individual.  There are people who aren't ready to let them go--and hey--that's okay too.  But I think the most heart wrenching scenario of them all are those who have had children with their ex.  It's not as easy for them to walk away.

I managed to create a poll on social media just to see how other's would respond to my question; 

Are you friends with your ex?


Maybe I'm horrible or maybe I'm super relatable.  I'm happy with my life.  I don't need someone from my past trying to crawl their way through some loophole hoping to gain information about my life.  So--that leaves me with one question;

Are you friends with your ex?


Thursday, November 2, 2017

Why You Should NEVER Feel Second Best

When I was 14, I had the sexuality of a lampshade.  Obviously, I wasn't like my other female peers.  The girls in my high school locker room had breasts the size of watermelons and their hips were beginning to widen.  They were developing into women.  Meanwhile I was just this tomboy who hated wearing a bra and didn't shave her legs since her mother had hidden all the razors.  So--in a nutshell--I was this hairy, fourteen year old who was struggling to feel even remotely feminine like my blossoming female peers.  I literally had nothing that these other girls could possibly want.

During my youth, I made friends with the neighborhood boys down the street and I would frequently shoot soda cans off the wall with my next door neighbor.  The one childhood friend that stood out the most from the rest of the Lost Boys was Mick.*  My mom was friend's with his mom way before either one of us were even born.  I wasn't all that close with my older brother mainly because we were ten years apart so Mick naturally stepped into that role.  His family would invite me out to dinner and to special events.  And we'd end our nights watching movies or playing video games.  We were hanging out almost every day.  His family felt like my own.  Mick felt like an actual brother to me. 

Growing up, I frequented the lake every summer with my family.  I spent every waking moment in the water.  Whether I was cruising on jet ski's or swimming out far past where my mother would let me, I was in the water till the sun was setting.  When sophomore year of high school came around, I decided to join the swim team.  I wasn't that bad of a swimmer and I felt like it was something I could excel in.  

As a member of the swim team it was mandatory to attend morning and after school practices.  But since I hated mornings and the pool was never heated (even though they assured it would be) I chose to practice in the afternoons.  The second I was done with class, I'd race over to the locker rooms and strip down.  During swim practice one day, I had started up a conversation with another member of the team--her name was Lily*. 

Lily was the complete opposite of me.  She was tall, muscular, drank soda for breakfast and had zero filter.  In between laps, her and I had started engaging in small talk.  Through all the small talk, we became friends.  I'd catch a ride with her after school and vice versa which was a relief since I didn't have to ride with Deb anymore (read all about that here).  We'd either order a pizza and watch ridiculous internet clips or we'd go to the movies.  I always had fun when I was with her.  And she had an incredible sense of humor.

While balancing school and swim practice, my social life was beginning to take off.  I'd balance my weekends with either Lily or Mick.  One afternoon while Mick was showing me how to play bass guitar, I got a call from Lily asking to hang out.  I told her I was at Mick's  but hopefully with his parent's blessing--maybe she could join us.  From that day forward we became the trio that would always hang out with one another. 

During my junior year in high-school, I was struggling with personal issues.  My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer and I was riding the rocky waves of depression and suicide.  As a result--I distanced myself quite a bit from friends but managed to still hang out with them whenever I wasn't cooking up some excuse as to why I couldn't.  During lunch period, Mick had pulled me to the side to talk with me.  He pulled out a small stack of cut up pieces of paper.  He motioned me to start looking through them.  Each piece of a paper had words scribbled on it.  I started to peel through each one--unveiling a message as I attempted to go deeper and deeper into what Mick was trying to tell me...

"What's up?"
"We've been friends for a long time..."
"And I love that we spend time together..."
"I have so much fun when I'm with you..."
"I feel like I can be myself around you..."
"I really like you..."
"A lot.."
"I was wondering..."
"Will you be my girlfriend?"

I could feel this gigantic lump in the back of my throat.  I wanted to vomit.  I didn't want to vomit out of being purely nauseated  by the idea that Mick was asking me out.  I wanted to vomit because this situation was an absolute nightmare.  Nothing was right about this and the setting couldn't have been worse.  Looking out of the corner of my eye, I could see people staring at us.  There wasn't a mystery as to what was happening in that very moment.  The people that hung around us at lunch were smart enough to pick up on social cues.  I could see Lily staring at us.  This wasn't a private thing.  They were pretty aware of was actually happening. 

Let's just take a moment.  If you have to know anything about me--then you have to know that I HATE being put on the spot.  I hate being thrust into a situation where I have to make a decision in front of other people when it could have been done in private.  A situation where there's a 95% chance that I will say no but yet feel forced to say yes due to the surroundings.  FUCK.  I hate that with every fiber of my being.  My childhood friend was confessing his love to me in front of other people and I just didn't feel the same.  Now I had to do the very thing that super sucks for literally anyone...

I gotta be that one asshole that breaks my friends' heart.

Unrequited love isn't exactly the best thing in the world.  We've all been there.  And now I was in this position of where I had to express my feelings which were polar opposite to his.  I told him that I just didn't feel the same way and that he felt like a brother to me.  The dreaded words that any guy doesn't want to hear from someone who they find remotely attractive and have feelings for.  Besides if there was even a shred of those feelings--I would hate to ruin our friendship over it.  His honesty (and mine) made shit weird from that day forward.

Our friendship immediately changed.  I wasn't as open with him anymore.  I avoided any and all alone time with him.  I wasn't coming over as much.  Conversations between him and I were extremely brief.  Someone who was like a brother to me had viewed me in this non-platonic light.  He immediately went from being my brother to this acquaintance...

In the light of it all--Lily and Mick became closer and closer.  They were talking daily.  And through all their late night instant messenger chats (of which Lily had shown me)--they had started flirting.  I was happy that Mick and Lily were developing a romantic relationship.  They were taking an interest in one another.  And I was excited for their relationship--for now.

Halloween--my favorite day out of the year had finally arrived.  I was invited to a costume party and since I was allowed to bring some guests--I invited my best friend to join Mick, Lily and I.    I'm not sure how it all began but somehow the evening went from being a thing I looked forward to all week to a thing that felt like absolute torture.

At this point, Mick and Lily had developed into an item.  They were cuddling with one another almost all evening.  As we were sitting alongside the pool, we were talking about different horror films.  I had recently borrowed Silent Hill from Lily and promised to return it to her that evening.  Like an idiot--I forgot it at home but I thought I packed it.  When she asked me why I hadn't brought it--I told her I must have forgotten it while I was rushing to get ready.  Her response threw me off...

"I love when I catch people in a lie."

I didn't even lie.  I'm only human--I forgot her DVD at home.  Instead of brushing off the issue, and moving on from it--she proceeded to call me a liar in front of other people.  She casted me this dirty look while Mick sat there in silence.  I was so frustrated and put on the spot, I immediately walked away and sat elsewhere.  Staring at the clock relentlessly, I began to wonder when it was time for me to go home.  I just wanted out.  As the evening continued, Lily had made it a point to talk about me to other people while giving me the 'i'm-obviously-talking-about-you-and-I-want-you-to-know-it-stare.'  I felt nauseous, embarrassed and a little confused.

This party was supposed to be fun and stress free.  It had turned into this nightmare that I couldn't wake up from.  That small, insignificant, petty behavior over some stupid DVD was becoming the catalyst to Lily's snarky behavior towards me.   

It would always be over something small or completely unnecessary.  If I didn't shave my legs once for practice--I was heckled for that (in front of mixed company).  If we were playing a board game and I didn't understand the rules--she would talk down to me in front of everyone else.  She was always finding a way to make me feel insignificant.  She was always trying to make me look like the village idiot.  And I think in some way, she felt incredibly satisfied over it.  Being relentlessly bullied by her made me feel incredibly small and powerless.  Through all her unnecessary hostility towards me, I would do the very thing that I always do--I overanalyzed it to death.  I just couldn't figure out what I did wrong to deserve it.  And it was bothering me.  I just wanted this unrecognizable monster to bring my friend back--wherever she was.

Remember when I said that I overanalyze shit to death?  I played out every scenario in my head.  I broke it down and tried to get to the root of every moment she was cruel to me.  This was becoming more torturous than Algebra.  I didn't say or do anything.  I never put her down.  I never criticized or judged her.  I was a friend to her.   I brought her to these damn outings.  I introduced her to Mick.  What the fuck man!  What. the. fucccck.

During a contemplative moment of her behavior one evening in  my kitchen, my mom threw a wrench into my thoughts... 

"Megan, isn't it obvious?  She's jealous of you."

I had nothing for her to be jealous of.  I was this raging tomboy with short hair and baby fat.  What did I have that she didn't have?  The whole thing made zero sense.

My friendship with Mick had pretty much disintegrated into ash.  I was hardly hanging with them anymore since I was tired of feeling like a worthless piece of shit after the fact.  So, when their whole relationship went up in smoke, I realized more than ever that I needed to be Lily's friend.  I know what you must be thinking.  Why would you want to be friends with someone who was so cruel to you for no reason at all? 

No matter how many times I got verbally bruised by her, I knew that in some way I could look past it all.  Our friendship had gone through a rough patch of insults, one-uppers and put-downs.  I could either hold onto that growing resentment I had for her and let all her negativity get to me, or I could let it go and get to the root of the matter--and why she felt the need to act the way she did. 

Lily and I ended up attending the same junior college.  I reached out to her and tried my best to be cordial although I was extremely disappointed and upset by her behavior.  As we walked together between our classes, I asked why she felt the need to be so mean to me...

She said that the reason why she behaved the way she did was that she always felt as if she was in second place next to me.

But why?  Why would she feel that way?  Like I had stated previously--I had NOTHING that any teenage girl could envy over.  I was in no way this thing to be jealous or threatened by.  And then it hit me.  It hit me like a giant school bus.  Her relationship with Mick.  That's when all the hostility was happening!  She was doing it to feel good about herself (which is extremely unhealthy).  She was viewing herself as 'the alternative' or 'second best' next to me because he chose her after me...  

I had no idea she felt that way that entire time.  I wish I could have put together the pieces sooner and maybe it wouldn't have caused such a rift in our friendship.  But I was completely clueless.  But in light of her explanation and apology--I forgave her.  I know that may seem shocking to believe, but I did.  I wanted to salvage our friendship despite her cruelty. 

No one ever wants to feel as if they're a consolation prize.  I get it.  I mean, I don't want to feel that way either.  But there's a reason why I don't--I know my worth.  That's the key to all of this.  I know that I have value.  Lily had value but it was blinded by this perception of being in 'second place' because Mick chose her after me.  And that's just fucking silly.  Whether he dated her before meeting me or after me didn't matter.  And that's the point she was missing.  If Lily knew her worth than she wouldn't have felt that way. Period.  Lily was worth more than she realized, she just didn't believe it at the time. 

If you have this perception of being 'second best' then you are second guessing your worth.  It takes a lot of self-discovery to realize that.  Lily, for example, is worth more than she realizes--she just couldn't see it for herself.  If you know your self-worth, then you know you're valuable.  If you value who you are then you know deep down in your heart that you're always first--never second.

Know your worth.


**Names have been changed**

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Wednesday, October 11, 2017

I Had a Stalker for 2 Years

I did a huge no-no a few years back and joined the online dating circuit.  This was after the break-up I had thrust upon me over Facebook (of which you can read here).  I just wanted to date someone else and be completely clear of the jackass moron that I wasted nearly two years of my life on.  Unable to just remain single and free, I began to search the dangerous watering holes of online dating.  I was approached by weirdo's of all sorts but managed to find someone decent for the most part (keywords: for the most part).

Here we go--let's get into another relationship without really catching a breather.  The guy I was dating was on a whole other wavelength.  He was all about me and I just didn't reciprocate that.  (I'm just here pretending I enjoy this.)  Besides, it was one of those relationships where an expiration date was attached since I knew that he wanted children (and we all know how I feel about children).  To make matters worse--he wasn't into Halloween but was obsessed with Football.  This relationship was doomed from the beginning and deep down I just knew it was a waste of my time.  (Sorry-not-sorry).  It's a mystery (to this day) as to why I started dating this person but I blame it on the rebound.

During the course of our relationship, I was slowly realizing that I was unhappy.  He and I had nearly nothing in common so I was practically dating an alien as far as I was concerned.  I was only with him because I didn't want to be alone.  I was used to having someone there with me.  As time went on, I was becoming increasingly annoyed and felt less and less involved in the relationship.  My parents, on the other hand, loved the fact he had his own place and a grown-up job.  My friends thought he was nice but could tell that I was not all there.  To make matters even worse--he would constantly tell me that dating me didn't really require 'an effort'.  (Yeah, he said that.)

As Christmas approached, I became ecstatic.  And it wasn't just because I love this time of the year--it was because he had decided to go back to his hometown  to visit family.  This was my chance to get some much needed distance.  I could figure out if this ship was truly sinking or if I could salvage it.  Through all this contemplation, I would encounter the very thing that I wouldn't be able to shake off for two years...

During my lunch break at work, I was in the middle of ignoring repetitive text messages from my soon to be ex-boyfriend when I was approached by one of the waiters in our restaurant.  I enjoyed eating lunch alone the majority of the time but since my phone kept blowing up, I needed some kind of distraction.  So when he asked if he could sit with me seeing as though the rest of the tables were taken--I decided to take in the company.  Being polite, I told him that he could.  Biggest. Regret. Ever.

He introduced himself as Alan*.  We talked for a good while.  Shifting our conversation from work to tv-shows that we enjoyed, my lunch had run it's course but since we had gotten along so well I figured that we were friends now.  It felt nice to find another coworker who shared the same interests.  So, I did the thing I shouldn't have done--I gave this person my digits.

The day of my breakup, I had been texting my boyfriend at the doctors office.  I already hate the doctor's office (it gives me unbelievable amounts of anxiety) so having to deal with anxiety plus my annoying boyfriend--I was pretty much done.  I had realized my answer was staring at me straight in the face.  Once this appointment was over, I would have to end things.  I've always told other's that they shouldn't be a coward and break-up over a text or phone call but at this rate--I was just fed up and over it.  I ended up doing it over a text message while he was still out of state visiting family during Christmas.  I know--I'm a fucking monster.


Since my break-up, Alan and I had started hanging out.  And because I was young and stupid, I ended up sleeping with him.  Biggest.  Mistake.  Ever.  I felt vulnerable.  I had wasted another 6 months on someone due to my previous relationship.  Alan had started giving me attention.  And I guess it felt nice to be wanted for a change.  Looking back on it now--I was just a young and dumb single lady.  I was a walking hot mess who was just making horrible decisions without any disregard of the outcome.  But I knew that I didn't want to enter a relationship with Alan.  I was trying to enjoy my freedom for once.  Could you blame me?  Alan and I were just friends with benefits.  I wasn't emotionally attached.  I had zero plans of entering a committed relationship with him.  He was just considered company and nothing more...

I've been contemplating on getting a Disneyland Annual Pass for some time now.  I used to have one when I was in high school but now that I could afford it again, I decided to treat myself.  Alan wanted one as well (go figure), so we decided to go and get our passes.  The entire Disney day, I wanted to throw myself off a bridge.  He was extremely hyper active and incredibly annoying.  Alan was worse than some of the children coked out on candy throughout the park.  He was much older than me but acted as if he was a pre-teen.  Needless to say--I couldn't wait for the day to be over.  I half-wished that I would lose him in the crowd and then I could spend the rest of the day by myself and leave his ass there.  From that day forward,  I decided to stop associating myself with Alan. 

He was becoming extremely clingy and made it evidently clear that he wanted me more than just the confines of our 'friendship'. 

No thanks dude...

I'm not particularly vicious (at first) but I will activate my inner raging bitch when provoked.  I had slowly fallen off the radar with Alan.  I was ignoring his texts and I was acting distant so I was hoping he'd eventually get the point.  One rainy Sunday, I was having the cramps from hell (sorry, not sorry).  I was in zero mood to do anything and I wanted to crawl in my bed and let the crimson wave crush me to death.  Alan had been harassing me to go on another (miserable) trip to Disneyland with him and to get  him off my back, I agreed (even though I knew I would just bail on him anyway).  So when bloody Sunday arrived, I had received text messages from Alan asking what time we were leaving.  I explained that it was raining so going to Disneyland was pointless (come on, who wants to ride a coaster with their butt all wet?).  I'm already suffering from cramps, it's raining and I don't want to hang with this dude anymore...

Two seconds after I sent my response, Alan called me up screaming in my ear.  He had entered full on rage mode and practically shouted through the phone at me.  Alan was pissed that I was bailing and he even 'bought' me an umbrella.   To make things even more possessive and downright crazy--he claimed that I didn't have a problem going with other people to Disneyland and yet I was bailing on him.  I mean- he wasn't wrong there--I much preferred Disneyland with others than him.  But then again--who cares?  Did you buy my annual pass?  Then feel free to fuck off.  And to top it all off--he called me a selfish bitch.  Remember when I said that I'm a raging bitch when provoked?  Here it comes...

With the help of PMS, I screamed right back.  I didn't give a flying fuck about his umbrella or his feelings.  I'm not obligated to go anywhere with him.  I'm allowed to stay home if I'm not feeling well.  Who was he to tell me what to do?  At the end of me shooting fire out of my mouth through the phone, I told him to not call or text me ever again.


Spoiler Alert: That wouldn't be the last time I would hear from Alan...

My friend Bradford and I decided to make a ritual to go every Thursday to Disneyland since that's when there were zero crowds and it was easy for our schedules.  Bradford is the fabulous drag queen in my life of whom I absolutely adore.  We enjoyed working together but on our off time, he became my permanent Disney partner.  Throughout the day we would attend shows, enjoy the parade, and ride rides.  And since him and I are active on social media, everyone knew of when we were at Disneyland so it should come to no surprise that Alan caught wind of it...


I received a phone call from Alan as Bradford and I were standing in line.  He told me he was on his way to Disneyland to find me...

What the actual fuck.

In all reality, I probably should have ignored the phone call--but then again I probably wouldn't have received such a warning if I didn't.  Alan didn't even have a car but told me he was on the bus. This psycho was on his to Disneyland.  But for what?  To go on a trek to find us in the park?  It takes over an hour by bus to get to Disneyland from where he lives.  And even if he did find us--then what?  I was too busy freaking out to answer those questions myself.  It was odd and it was the first time I felt the ping of anxiety.  I was beginning to think that Alan was unstable and unpredictable...

A position had recently opened up within another department.  It paid a little bit more than what I was currently making and it was office based.  I wouldn't have to deal with guests face to face either which made the position all that more appealing.  During that time, I was currently on my parent's phone plan and had begged for them to block Alan's number.  The text messages were relentless.  Some messages were long disturbing paragraphs.  They would occur throughout the day and I was left to feel angry and almost anxious.  The funny thing about cell phone providers is that they can only block a number for a limited amount of time until you have to continue to pay for such a feature.  I didn't have an IPhone which makes it so much easier to block a number, so I was at the mercy of my stupid android phone.  Once Alan was blocked, I felt relieved.

One day after my shift was over, I was sitting in my car unwinding after a stressful day.  I usually do this before hopping on the freeway for my drive home.  Do you ever get the feeling that someone is watching you?  It's as if something is tugging on you to look in a particular direction.  Alan had been watching me, and I'm not even sure how long.  By the time I glanced into my rearview mirror, my body froze.  How long had he been standing there watching me?   

And most importantly--how did he know where I was parked?

I drove home feeling absolutely nauseous.  I felt on edge.  Had he gotten to know my schedule even after I switched departments?  Was he following me?  This was taking a toll on me mentally and physicallyI started to have the sweats and the shakes for fucks sake.  I had previously blocked him for a limited time but once the 'cellular wall' had gone down, his messages would start to infiltrate my inbox.  Was he texting me everyday to see if I would respond?  I didn't know.  My phone was becoming the permanent dumpster of insane, lengthy and psychotic paragraphs from Alan.  I felt trapped and I just wanted it to stop. 

 When an opportunity for another job came up, I didn't hesitate.  I immediately put in my two weeks (which consisted of me calling out daily).  The new job I had taken was much further away but it was a fresh start for me.  I would be away from the very place I had been trying to get out of for the past two years and more importantly--I'd be away from Alan.  I had already blocked him on social media and had taken extra precautions on revealing my location when it came to checking in to places.  I had to be extra careful.  I know it sounds silly, but I had zero clue who Alan really was at this point.  He was showing his crazy colors.  Messages from Alan had stopped and I thought that maybe , just maybe it would finally be put to rest... 
My new job had taken a lot out of me.  My schedule consisted of waking up at 5:00am just to get on the freeway before 6:00am to avoid traffic.  I'd pull up to the parking lot nestled near the beach, throw on my makeup and clock in for my shift.  Once my shift was over at 4:30pm, I'd make the long drive home through heaps of traffic only to finally step into my house at 6:00pm.  I'd repeat this five days a week.  It was extremely difficult to maintain this schedule at first, but eventually I got the hang of it.  After a long week of work, I had taken the advantage of sleeping in one Saturday morning.  Waking up with disheveled hair and dry drool on my face, I wandered into the kitchen seeking coffee.  My mom who had been awake for several hours approached me while I was pouring a fresh cup;

"Your friend Alan stopped by when you were sleeping.."
My skin felt as if bugs were crawling on it.  At first I thought I may have been hallucinating (of which I would have preferred).  Unable to absorb what was happening, my brow lifted itself in confusion...

Was this a nightmare?  I must have been dreaming right?

Sadly, I wasn't.

"I told him you were sleeping.  He dropped off some stuff." 

My world was spinning.  My stomach felt like someone had taken it and squeezed it to death.  What the fuck was happening?  How had he remembered where I lived?  And then it hit me.  One evening, I had to stop by my house to get my jacket before we hung out.  And to make matters worse--I drove us!  I had unknowingly let a deranged wing-ding know where I lived.  He must of scribbled my address down or he had an incredible memory.  Either way, I was terrifiedHe had dropped off a notebook and an umbrella.  The notebook was filled with scribbles of things he wanted to do with me, trips he wanted to take me on, etc.  And the umbrella was from the Disney excursion I bailed on... 


I couldn't leave my house.  I refused.  My anxiety was off the charts.  He had stopped by unannounced after I had made it incredibly clear that I didn't want him near me.  And to make it extra weird with a dash of creepy, he had dropped off items that weren't even mine!  It was just an excuse to stop by my house in a last ditch effort to see me since I no longer worked where he worked.  

I do this thing where I immediately jump to insane hypotheticals.  I do it a lot and I end up going down this insane rabbit hole.  But once Alan had came to my house, I immediately hopped on the red-eye to my land of insane hypotheticals.  I mean--could you blame me?  What if he was waiting down the street?  What if he was waiting for the opportunity to take me against my will?  What if I was trying to get into my car and he snuck up behind me put a rag over my mouth rendering me unconscious?  I was only thinking this shit because this type of thing happens to people even in broad daylight.  I was extremely paranoid that I was going to be another victim of kidnapping.  I stayed home the entire day feeling trapped and nauseous.  I told my mom that Alan was not a friend and that if he ever stepped foot on our property again that she needed to call the police. 

I was a mix of emotions.  I was anxious, nervous, and nauseous.  But above all else, I was absolutely furious.  I've told this person repeatedly to leave me alone and he continued to harass me.  He would call me to see if I picked up.  He would text me short sentences or long deranged paragraphs.  And now--he had come to my house--uninvited.  I decided to make things evidently clear as a form of documentation...

One of the few valuable tools that I learned from my mother is the tool of documentation.  Whether it's for personal or professional purposes, documenting secures a time-stamp and evidence of events.  Over the course of two years, I had compiled a series of text messages and dated events.  If I had enough information documented, I would have more proof to provide authorities if necessary.  All in all--I just wanted it to stop. 

I needed to have a final, lengthy and rather serious written message that could potentially be used as documentation.  I told him to stay away from me and my home.  I emphasized that he was not welcome on my property.  He had come uninvited and proceeded to engage in conversation with one of my family members.  His behavior was unwelcome, unwanted and inappropriate.

A few months had passed by without word from Alan.  My anxiety was still there from time to time but was more manageable.  To clear my head after a long day at work and the overwhelming stressful shit that was happening at my house, I would go jogging.  Jogging allowed me to release all this pressure that had been mounting.  My phone has the majority of my music on it and so I would bring it with me.  As I began to run on my way back to my house, I received a message.  Alan had began to text me once more.  I responded telling him to leave me alone and that I wasn't going to tell him to do so again.

Alan was going to be this parasitic tick that would continue to feast on my anxiety and fear. 

With all the information I had in regards to his behavior, there was nothing I could do.  Law enforcement told me that I was unable to proceed with a restraining order seeing as though he had yet to 'threaten' my life.  I felt incredibly alone.  There was nothing I could do.  I would have to continue to play this mind-fuck of a game with Alan until he threatened my life?  It all seemed like a ticking time bomb.  I thought this shit was never going to end.  Alan was going to keep harassing me and stalking me until it was too late.

Exactly two years later from the time I had met Alan, I received another creepy 'Hello Megan' message on my phone. I hesitated on my usual fuck off response. I decided to approach this situation differently.  I pretended that I was someone else.  I told him that he had the wrong number.  And he believed me.  Anyone with a brain would know to call my phone and listen to my voicemail but since he lacked intelligence, he believed what I said.  He believed that he had the wrong number and he no longer had access to communicate with Megan anymore.  I outsmarted him.  I had put a stop to it.  I only wish I could have done it sooner...

For the past two years, Alan had stalked me at work and when I no longer worked there, he would harass me on the phone through social media, voicemails and text messages.  I breathed a sigh of relief.  It was finally over.  At first I was hesitant and I waited for his usual response to cross my screen once more--but it's been two whole years since I've heard from him. 

My situation was mild and it could have been much, much worse.  There are many people out there who are not as fortunate.  Some have been stalked and harassed for years often ending in tragedy.  I got curious once more and I turned to Twitter to create a poll.  Was I alone in this?  Was there more victims out there that have dealt with stalkers in their life?

80% said Yes80% have been stalked and harassed by someone. 
That. is. fucking. crazy.

  What happened to me has left a stain.  I'm very attentive when I am out in public and I'm cautious when it comes to meeting new people.  I hate that what I went through has done this to me but it's a valuable lesson that I've learned.  The world isn't a safe place.  It's filled with wing-ding Alan's who don't know when to leave you the fuck alone. 

 Be careful who you become vulnerable with.  Be careful who you let into your life. 

*Names have been changed*


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