P- "Crystal. I see you everywhere lately. I think you're stalking me."
me-"No, P, I think you are stalking me. I used to come here [Tuesday night jam] all the time, and I never used to see you here."
Really, guy, I know we were friends in elementary school and I helped you with math in Grade 10, but come on, it's not like I actually know you. I know you're gay, but that doesn't make it ok to be so fucking touchy. My friends can touch me that way. You are not a friend of mine. Maybe you used to be, but you're not even an acquaintance anymore. All I know about you is that you are still short, you cut you're hair and don't wear you're turban anymore, you're queer, and you used to work at the Dal bookstore. That is far from enough information to have you touching me and slobbering all over my cigarettes. I've always had problems with touchy people. In Grade 2, my parents threatened to sue the librarian if she EVER laid another hand on me again. They did that because I was so upset with the fact that she touched my shoulder once. She had a reason, and there was nothing wrong with what she did, but I'm a freak. I don't like people up in my personal space, unless I actually want that specific person in there. Yes, I hug and kiss my friends, and I like feeling hands on my arms (or legs, back, shoulders, etc.) when nice people talk to me. Maybe you are a nice person. But how would I know? All you said to me Tuesday was the above, as well as "I'm so drunk.", "I'm not gonna ask you for a cigarette cuz cigarettes are bad, but can I have a drag?"
Didn't you notice me pulling away from you as much as I could? Sometimes, I felt as if I was performing some strange dance where you'd put you're arm around me, and I'd twirl out of it, then you'd put it there again to pull me close and say something redundant. Repeat. At Reflections the other night, you kept rubbing my back. Ew. Only people I can use the word love to describe can fucking rub my fucking back. That's probably because, for me, it's an erogenous zone, I don't want you there.
Leave me alone. I'm getting creeped out.
On a somewhat related note, I think someone's stalking me in the dream realm. Really, that doesn't seem possible. It's my dreams, so I'm the stalker, right? Not if there's some sort of astral projection going on. Maybe that person has left his/her body, and come to visit me. All I know is I see the same face (although I don't recognize it) in almost all my dreams. No matter what the scenario, it's there; sometimes in the foreground, sometimes lurking in the shadows. Actually, I think I'm just insane...
me-"No, P, I think you are stalking me. I used to come here [Tuesday night jam] all the time, and I never used to see you here."
Really, guy, I know we were friends in elementary school and I helped you with math in Grade 10, but come on, it's not like I actually know you. I know you're gay, but that doesn't make it ok to be so fucking touchy. My friends can touch me that way. You are not a friend of mine. Maybe you used to be, but you're not even an acquaintance anymore. All I know about you is that you are still short, you cut you're hair and don't wear you're turban anymore, you're queer, and you used to work at the Dal bookstore. That is far from enough information to have you touching me and slobbering all over my cigarettes. I've always had problems with touchy people. In Grade 2, my parents threatened to sue the librarian if she EVER laid another hand on me again. They did that because I was so upset with the fact that she touched my shoulder once. She had a reason, and there was nothing wrong with what she did, but I'm a freak. I don't like people up in my personal space, unless I actually want that specific person in there. Yes, I hug and kiss my friends, and I like feeling hands on my arms (or legs, back, shoulders, etc.) when nice people talk to me. Maybe you are a nice person. But how would I know? All you said to me Tuesday was the above, as well as "I'm so drunk.", "I'm not gonna ask you for a cigarette cuz cigarettes are bad, but can I have a drag?"
Didn't you notice me pulling away from you as much as I could? Sometimes, I felt as if I was performing some strange dance where you'd put you're arm around me, and I'd twirl out of it, then you'd put it there again to pull me close and say something redundant. Repeat. At Reflections the other night, you kept rubbing my back. Ew. Only people I can use the word love to describe can fucking rub my fucking back. That's probably because, for me, it's an erogenous zone, I don't want you there.
Leave me alone. I'm getting creeped out.
On a somewhat related note, I think someone's stalking me in the dream realm. Really, that doesn't seem possible. It's my dreams, so I'm the stalker, right? Not if there's some sort of astral projection going on. Maybe that person has left his/her body, and come to visit me. All I know is I see the same face (although I don't recognize it) in almost all my dreams. No matter what the scenario, it's there; sometimes in the foreground, sometimes lurking in the shadows. Actually, I think I'm just insane...
posted by crystal at
1:44 pm
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