There was a point last night where I really thought my plates were being written down and reported to the police.
Technically I was casing the same street over and over again, in broad daylight (because the lovely sun is still out at 11 o'clock at night here – which really hinders my stalking abilities); so I guess I can see where the neighbors who were watching me may have been a little uneasy.
I suppose I should start at the beginning.
I have mentioned before that the ex has been facing some issues of his own this last year. I won’t get into them here because it isn’t my story to tell, but needless to say; as much as I would like for him to be there for me as I work through my life, I get that he has a life of his own to work through right now too.
I wish he was a little better at multi-tasking so he could do both, but you know... we can't always get what we want.
He called me last night, and honestly didn’t sound great. I went over to his house worried about him and we talked for a while. Not about anything of any real significance mind you (that would involve the ex actually opening up more than just a crack, which I’m not sure he is capable of), but just kind of checking in with where the other is at.
When I left, I still felt like there was more I wanted to say (and I know that must shock all you lovely readers, right?!? You would think I would eventually run out of words!) I just felt like there were things we hadn’t gotten into because he refused to go there, but that I personally needed to at least get out on the table.
And I needed him to know that I was here for him, but that I also kind of needed him to be there for me too.
So, I went home and thought about it for a while. Then I pulled out a card from my drawer (it’s possible that every time I go to a Hallmark store I end up walking out with a stack of cards… I may have a thing for “just because” sentiments) and I started writing. Nothing too long or involved, just a short note that basically put a little more on the line.
Then I sat and stared at the card for a while; trying to determine what I wanted to do with it. The man is not much of a reader, and there is a vague possibility he would only skim it if I gave it to him anyway. I wasn’t sure it was worth the effort.
But I realized that I needed to give it to him; if only for my own sanity. Regardless of what happens in this situation, I needed to know at the end of the day that I had said everything that needed to be said.
That he knew where I stood.
I went back to his house. By this point I knew he was asleep (the man works far earlier than I could ever manage), so I parked on the street and left my car running. I ran up to his work truck and put the card on his front seat where I knew he would find it in the morning while I was still tucked away in my bed.
His truck is always unlocked and I’ve known that since we were together, so I knew I would be able to leave it there. I still haven’t figured out the Alaskan mentality that says leave all things (even front doors) unlocked, but at least it gives me easy spots to leave cards!
I shut the door and walked back to my car as a neighbor was pulling up. He eyed me, because clearly I looked suspicious. I was wearing a sweatshirt and ball cap and was walking away from his neighbors work truck as I got into my still running getaway car.
Special.
I knew this guy was probably wondering if I had just slashed the ex’s tires.
I got in my car and tried to look sane, but at the last minute I looked back at the truck and realized his lights were now on. Irritated, I thought to myself that I must not have closed the door hard enough. So out of my car I got again as I walked up to the truck and slammed the door shut.
The neighbor was watching me the entire time.
The lights still didn’t go out, but for a brief moment I panicked. I didn’t know what to do, so I drove away from the scene of my… crime?
I got a few blocks away before I realized that waking up to a dead battery wouldn’t really go all that far in making the ex’s life better right now, and that he would probably kill me if that happened. So I turned around to check on the truck again… just hoping that the lights would have gone off automatically.
No such luck, and as I drove down the cul-de-sac for the third time in the same night (and of course it would be a cul-de-sac, where there is no easy way to do a quick drive-by), I cursed at the lights which were still on and the neighbor who was now staring me down.
Again I drove away.
And again, I panicked.
I knew I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I have left the ex cards in his truck before, even back when we were together (like I said, I like cards!) And I had just been there hanging out with him for Pete’s sake! But still, for some reason I felt guilty. As though I had just done something very weird… and gotten caught.
I called up the only person I knew would answer at that hour; one of my best friends in San Diego.
Al picked up the phone groggily, and I launched into a diatribe about what a stalker I was and how I had broken the ex’s truck and the neighbors were going to call the cops on me.
I told you I was panicking!
I just kept swearing that all I had done was open that stupid door and shut it.
She started laughing at me, and ensured me I was not a stalker. Then she told me to drive back one more time and see if the light was off now.
So I did. With Al on the phone I drove down that stupid cul-de-sac for the 4th flipping time in the same night.
The lights were out, and the neighbor was gone.
Whew.
Once Al realized that the crisis had been adequately handled, she said “See! No big deal! And you’re not a stalker.”
To which I had to remind her “Are you kidding me? None of this would have ever happened if I weren’t a stalker. Why on earth did I have to bring him a card so late at night?”
She again laughed and said “Because that’s who you are. You leave people cards. It’s nice. And you are not a stalker. Now go to bed!”
At this point my nerves were still shot from the near incident and I shrieked back at her “OK, great. That’s exactly what I’ll do. Because I’m pulling into my garage right now. That’s right. Two seconds ago I was talking to you as I drove by his house, and now I am pulling into my garage that is just down the street. I bought a house that is less than a mile away from my ex boyfriends place.” I took a deep breath and shouted this last part:
“Am I a stalker NOW?!?”
Al efficiently calmed me down of course and reminded me that I bought my condo because it is also within walking distance of my work and is situated on a greenbelt right by a creek and lake that I love. She further pointed out that it was the only place I looked at that met all of the requirements I had wanted before I ever even started looking. She reminded me that I had actually been uncomfortable with the proximity when I first bought it, and that I was anxious people would think I was intentionally trying to buy something near to him. That that was actually the one negative mark against a condo that I otherwise loved.
And she's right. I even started shopping at a grocery store further away for a while because I didn't like the idea of us always running into each other.
Let’s not forget too, that everything in Anchorage is within 15 minutes of everything else; so there is that.
It turns out I may have been a little high strung in the heat of the moment, knowing full well that even if I had needed to wake him up to tell him I had done something to his truck and the light wouldn’t turn off, it wouldn’t have been that big a deal. He probably would have been annoyed, but in the end he would have just laughed at me. Because if nothing else, the man is at least used to my… intricacies (if you will) by now.
What can I say? I’m a neurotic girl.
Who is definitely NOT a stalker.
ADSPACE
