I saw her one day and I fell for her. You shrinks might call it by some ugly name, but I fell for her. I couldn’t talk to her, I couldn’t do anything but follow her. I didn’t know her name, but I knew everything else about her. I knew where she lived and when she left the house. I knew where she worked and how she got there. She was my life. Everywhere she went I tracked her. I slept outside her house and panhandled outside her office. I’d send annonymous messages and dream of the future we’d have together. Then she walked out one day with a ring on her finger. I forgave her then I knew that she had a momentary lapse and that she still loved me. I knew it and my life revolved around it. But, each time I tried to reach out to her she burned me. After the first try I made sure to stay 10 feet away because she wouldn’t visit me in any prison. I had to go for therapy after my second try, but I knew that she didn’t mean to cause the pain she did when she forced me into the loony hole. I got out in a few weeks once I learned the answers the shrinks wanted from me this time. I learned that my stalking tendencies were caused by my childhood. Stalking! Me! Is it stalking to love someone? Is it stalking to want to spend every hour of the day near them? But I fooled their silly tests which at first said that I was crazy and began my search for her again. She had moved away. She had moved as far away as she could as if she could avoid the fact that she loved me. I discovered about halfway there in Detroit that I didn’t love her. She rejected my love, she won’t get it. Is that really sufficient punishment to her considering the months and years she stole from me. Years spent solely on winning her love. Oh, she’d fall in love with me and she’d discover what it felt like to lose everything in her life. She’d lose the man she’d married, she’d lose her house and job. My life was now devoted to making her cry. $10 flowers were the first little gift I gave to her. She took them, but refused to run off with her. I feel her love for me and I despise it, how dare she tease me like this. But my hatred helps and I plug on knowing the pain I’ll cause her. Now I’m no sadist I just like people getting what’s coming to them. All those people who wronged me should feel some measure of remorse and the only way to get that is to hurt them. Is it my fault that everybody out there hates me and tries to abuse my trust? I started on the crank calls pretty soon and they seemed pretty effective I thought, but not enough. All that keeps me is the pain I cause now and the pain I can cause later.
I’m 50 years old now and I still haven’t quite got it. You’ve tried to evict me time after time, but I come back each time from that dark, unhappy place where they try to steal my brain. Yes one day I’ll make you cry, I’ll make you cry, I’ll make you cry…….