I met him during this college programme I attended the week before my First Year orientation.
It was a summer school of sorts, whereby a number of incoming First Years were given the opportunity to stay on campus for a week and meet other new students and experience all the college had to offer.
One of the best weeks of my life.
It was my first real taste of freedom.
The programme had a number of group leaders, who were current students at the college, and one my group leaders was P.
He was very pretty and quiet and nice and had very amazing eyes which he just locked onto yours when he was talking to you.
We got on well and at the end of the week, we exchanged phone numbers.
His suggestion, not mine.
And so some casual texting followed.
But this wasn’t enough for me.
And so began the Stalkfest.
Hormones completely took over and while I am normally very level-headed about this kind of thing, I decided I was in love with him and that I had no other choice but to marry him and have his babies.
So I hung around the Humanities building A LOT (we were both doing humanities degrees).
I checked his course timetable online (oh God, I know!) and then casually made sure I was in the area he was having class in, which was followed by a delightful conversation,consisting of “Hiiiiiiiii” and maybe a “How are you?”.
Cmon, I was so far gone at this stage my nerves couldn’t deal with an ACTUAL conversation with him.
I knew which computer room he used, and poor Lyndsay, being the wonderful friend she is, consented to hanging out in this particular computer lab which also happened to be the WORST computer lab in the whole college.
And then, purely by accident, I discovered where he worked in town, and used to frequent this shop.
It actually wasn’t TOO suspicious as it was the only H&M (oh God I hope he NEVER finds this blog) we had in town at that time.
And then there was the time I skipped a HUGE Drama Soc after-show party to go to a less-than-fine Christmas Party that he said he’d be going to.
He didn’t show.
I still hate that I missed that party.
But then he got himself a girlfriend his own age (there were 3 or 4 years between us) and possibly also copped that I was the one ringing his phone on a private number at 3am and breathing heavily down the receiver at him, and so he stopped talking to me.
And I stopped stalking him.
And actually forgot all about him until I saw him the next year looking a little greasy and not at all pretty anymore, to which I mentally responded “ha ha ha HA…reject ME will ye!?”
Because I’m so mature.
Thankfully this was the last time I was ever so ridiculous, and I became SO much cooler with the male kind from there on….eh, sorta.
But it was definitely the last and the worst Stalkfest I ever conducted.
I kinda miss those crazy days.
Maybe I’ll try stalking The Boy for a while cos hiding in bushes is ALWAYS fun….