I can’t believe I’m doing it again and even as I’m saying it, I can’t escape the inevitable. Everyone has their addictions, obsessions or whatever else you want to call it. Me? I’m obsessed with a girl. A stalker was not on my “to-do” list of things. I don’t think anyone plans on doing that, if they do, they need some serious treatment. I never saw myself as someone who would ever obsess or stalk someone until I seen her.
From what I gather, her name is Evelyn foster, or as her friends call her ‘Eve’. She’s beautiful but she doesn’t stand out in a crowd. Black lush hair but contrasting light green eyes; I bet if she wanted to, she could easily be a social butterfly. She has the body for it too; all she needs is the attitude to go with it. I spoke to her once, that’s how this all started. No, I’m not blaming her for talking to me which is what some people do.
It was a frat party somewhere after the first few weeks of classes of my second year. If you thought that I’m some freak who is cast away from society, well then think again. I’m not part of a pretentious group nor do I eat my lunch at the reject table. So a few buddies and I decide to hit the party; we went there and it was as crazy as it gets. I was high and needed a break so I landed on the sofa. In my drunken haze I heard girls talking and turned to find the source. By the wall, there was a group of girls chatting, excited and all a little high. She stood at the back of the group laughing a little too much. Strappy top, tight pants; such a typical student.
I continued to watch her wondering what was so funny. After a few minutes she walked over with another towards the drinks. Impulsively I followed her and as she turned around with a full glass, she bumped into me. She began apologizing and trying to explain something but I wasn’t listening to what she was saying. I was listening to the sound of her voice. Squeaky, happy, perky but yet so apologetic. Before I was telling her for the second time that it’s okay, her friend pulled her away. But that didn’t seal the deal.
It was the next day when I seen her during lunch. She passed right by me and didn’t recognize me. She looked like she was nursing a hangover. She just sat there being so normal. I seen popular girls pass by her and they exchanged smiles. So she could easily fit in with those girls; be another girl with extra sparkles on everything. She had moderate friends and moderate clothes. I guess I could say I’m in some ways similar too but she isn’t trying to fit in.
I first saw her accidently in a few places. Then I started noticing her more. I casually asked a friend who knew almost everyone and she said that eve was a regular everywhere, she just wasn’t noticed. So I started noticing, more and more. I love watching how she fits in without fitting in. I might even be a little jealous but it’s too beautiful to watch so I don’t harbour the ugliness of that emotion.
As I continued ‘finding’ her in every place that she supposedly was already visiting even before I knew of it- the café, the library, she even came for the same shows at the pub that I did. It was too much to understand, how someone lives so happy and you just don’t even recognize them until you bump into them. How much more was I missing? How many more pretty faces and smiles have been surrounding me in every area of my life that I just didn’t realize because I’ve been so oblivious? And what started as casual ‘finding’ has turned into stalking. I want to follow her. I want to see what makes her tick. Why is she so happy anyway? I’ve seen other people be happy too but I haven’t come across anyone who had a smile on their face 24 x 7!
The day I saw her in the rain, was the day I committed to this. It rained and everyone ran for shelter- well, everyone but her. She sat there, trying to protect her stack of papers but she couldn’t, so she just shrugged her shoulders and smiled. Then she threw her hands up to the sky and gave it the finger, well at least we know she’s not miss innocent. That would be a spoiler. As I’m sitting here at the café and watching her in the opposite shop, I’m trying to rationalize my thoughts. I have no idea why I’m even doing this. Maybe I want to watch her world; watch that bubble that she lives in. It’s beautiful to see just how complete she is in it; I started stalking her compulsively,
I don’t have a terrible life but I do have temper tantrums at least. The maximum thing bad in my life is that I’m misunderstood by my family and feel like an outcast. Or maybe I’m just waiting to see her break. I think that’s it. I want to see her experience feelings like a normal person. It’s been 5 weeks now and I haven’t seen anything more than a temporary frown. She just is so at ease with herself. She doesn’t even have to try and make anything work. I think I’m jealous. Yes, I’m jealous of her ease, of her life, of her never ceasing smile. But I don’t want to see her get hurt either. Damn it. I need to talk to her. Yes, I’ve had up my mind.
She just got of the store and is waving goodbye to her friends with more bags than she can handle. It’s all from the same mediocre store. They leave her and she’s juggling bags on both hands as well as a hand bag and being her stalker and all, I know that her car is parked a few blocks ahead. Here’s my cue. I walk up to her with half a smile and she smiles back like she knows me her whole life. I think she’s embarrassed by her juggling skills. For a moment I thought she remembered me but there was no recognition in her eyes.
“Hi, you look like you need some help?”
“Could you please? My car is right around the bend.”
I nod and she hands over a few bags. I’m almost angry at her for being so naive. I’M A STALKER; DON’T TRUST ME! Well, almost angry. She continues to smile at me and I admit I’ve been waiting to see that smile directed at me and it’s like warmth on a rainy day. She tells me her name and I avoid telling her my name by asking her questions I already know the answer to; what’s your major, where are you from, are you enjoying the weather. She enjoys all weathers as I recall so I’m not surprised when she says yes. I don’t give her the time to ask me anything. I just keep shooting questions like she’s being interviewed. She looks a little baffled but she’s too polite to stop me. We finally reach her car and she starts loading it.
“Thanks again, err..?”
And I walk away. I don’t want to give her details of my life, let alone my name. I want to be invisible to her in order to soak her up.
Here’s where some people might think this is creepy. She has a boyfriend. He’s a classmate of mine. I overheard him tell his friend that he wants to leave her; supposedly he isn’t that ready to settle down. I don’t know how to process this. I don’t want to see her get hurt but I want to see if she breaks. Anyway I can’t say anything to her so I just double up on stalking until I see it. I don’t have to wait long.
Her cocky boyfriend calls her away from her friends and breaks it to hurt. At first she’s expressionless; looking at him like as if he’s telling her the annual stock report. I think that this is it she’s going to break down. I’m contemplating consoling her but then I’ll have to explain why I think she should be okay when I’m not sure myself, either way she has friends for that. Now she’s nodding. Wait, why is she nodding? She looks almost as though she understands. She just hugged him! I don’t understand. She walks away and looking at his face I see that either does he understand. She goes back to her usual lunch table and all her friends pounce on her for answers. She gives them a sad smile, shakes her head and tells them what happened. I bet her version has ponies and unicorns because that’s how she’s taking it.
Now they’re hugging and reminding her of something. She’s telling them she’s okay and still has that sad smile. Why the hell is she still smiling! Can’t she cry or get angry or anything even a little negative? I’m fed up of stalking her. I can’t stand it anymore.” –
This is what I wrote in my diary two years ago. Not that I stopped. I stopped for two days and went back to it again. We graduated and I’m still stalking her; still haven’t said a word to her after that day. She’s interning at an accounting firm now and I own a book store just opposite it. At least I saw a sad expression from her once -someone threw something on her favourite blouse. I think I’ll stop when I understand her. I don’t want to talk to her nor do I love her. I just want to understand how someone could be this happy.