It was completely coincidental that we were going the same way. Okay, maybe 80% coincidental. But the fact that I was kind-of-sort-of following him was not lost on me, and I hurriedly tried to explain that I was actually just about to go the other way. He said he was just joking, but I'm still not entirely sure.
"See me going this way? Totally not following you." I'm such a smooth operator.
This little interaction got me thinking about my stalker ways, and about the incidences in which I have actively pursued a guy, passive-aggressive style.
I'm going to admit to something that few women admit to: I'm crazy. Full-on crazy. It's my belief that all girls are crazy when it comes to guys; it's just the amount of that crazy that you outwardly portray and act on that differs.
I don't know if every girl is as much of a stalker as I am, but I guess we'll find out after this post. For me, it's pretty harmless stuff; I don't peer into windows or steal used kleenexes or anything. It's just about getting to know the guy of interest and optimizing potential encounters.
Sounds scientific when I put it like that, doesn't it?
That being said, I suppose I've done some typically "stalkerish" things. Once I found a guy I met at a bar on facebook by creeping the mutual friends of friends of friends who I knew were from his town (I didn't know his last name). I was actually pretty proud of that.
Other than instances of extensive investigative work, it's mostly just online stalking: creeping facebook profiles, reading tweets, checking out instagram photos... I mean, it's all out there on the internet, anyway. The worst part is finding out that the guy you like is passionate about the same thing as you, but being unable to bring it up to him without him knowing that you've been reading his tweets from seven months ago. There are only so many times that you can "randomly" mention a common interest before it becomes suspicious.
Optimizing encounters is something that I think every girl does; you find a place where your love interest hangs out during a certain time, and try your best to run into him. Personally, I always find that authentic chance encounters are much more common than these attempts at plotting out his schedule, but I feel guilty about the legitimately random interactions anyway.
I really don't think that these "invasions" are that big of a deal. So I found out that you go to Subway every Thursday after ECON 203 and get a footlong BLT on Italian herbs and cheese bread. So I discovered you book Treadmill 5 from 8:30-9pm at the gym every second Friday because you bartend at The Ranch on the off-nights. So I know your address, favourite Doctor Who doctor, ex-girlfriend's major, underwear colour and childhood best friend. It's just general knowledge that anyone can know about an attractive peer.
The key to not being crazy is simply to not show it. Do I get manic when the guy I'm into doesn't text me back for a day? Of course, but he'll never know, because I play it cool. As long as I acknowledge the obsessive part of myself and am able to objectively identify when I take things too far, I can stop myself before destroying my romantic chances.
The moral of the story is, no matter how crazy and overly attached your feelings and actions, never let the guy see that side of you. If you suppress the public portrayal of your craziness, then he can live in blissful ignorance to the fact that you're actually a psychotic stalker, which is pretty much the same thing as not being a psychotic stalker at all.
Basically.
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