I had a female stalker.
Not one of the
real kind, but a very very pushy person who assumed a friendship that I didn't feel in return and definitely didn't want.
I only went out with her when the badgering became too tiring, and at some point every evening I "offended" her in some way and felt the best option was to apologise. I got understandably tired of this, and one evening when she pulled that stunt again (in tears because I'd been ignoring her emails) I just got my jacket and went to walk out, which was when she told me she was in love with me.
I actually stayed and talked to her. I'm such a sucker for pathos.
On another night, when she was chatting up the barmaid, I was talking to a man in the same pub. He was alone and I suggested he joined us. She came back to the table with our drinks, slammed them down in a way that set the table awash and stomped off. I didn't go after her, but I didn't leave either. She later came back and behaved like a sulky teenager.
I refused to have a post-mortem of the whole evening the next day though. I said, "No, I don't even
want to know why. I don't feel like talking about it." Which shocked the hell out of her - I finally realised I didn't have to go along with her self-created drama.
I don't think I'd get suckered like that again. But a mixture of hating confrontation, feeling empathy for the emotionally vulnerable and a misplaced sense of courtesy might just get me manipulated again some day. I hope I'd post it here and someone would smack me back into reality though
