June 14th, 2008 by Kateastrophe
If you’re looking for the Mr. Linky, it’s in the post below!!
If you need to catch up on my story, hit up the Soap Opera Sunday category link on my sidebar. Just a quick synopsis . . . I’ve been dating Richard for a very long time. He’s a jerk. I’m trying to date other people to get over him. It’s not working.
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I was trying to date, I really was, it just wasn’t working out so well, as witnessed by the last two dates I went on, so for a while, I gave up and focused once again on Richard. Once again, he was great for the first week or so that I was “back” and then, the real Richard would rear his ugly head and I’d be back to spending weekends alone, driving to Salt Lake at his whim and wishing the whole time I could just get over him already.
Then I met Tim. I was working at the sporting goods store and this very attractive young man, very obviously in the military (judging by the haircut) came into the store and just sort of . . . stared at me the whole time he was there. I was flattered of course, and did my best to give him some attention so he’d know I was interested if he was. Eventually he worked up the courage to talk to me and we started talking and laughing. He was on a short leave from the Marine Corps, and my brother happened to have just returned from a tour in Iraq with the Marines, so we had a lot to talk about. Eventually he asked if he could call me and I gladly gave him my phone number.
He called me that night and asked me out for the next day. Since I never had set plans, I said yes.
He picked me up right on time and was a perfect gentleman from the very start. He opened every door, he offered every sweatshirt, asked for my every opinion . . . he had a date planned in Park City, which included a ride on the zip line and the alpine slide. I was having a really good time, but a few things were weird. We discovered that he was three years younger than I, which seemed odd considering I was only 22 and dating a 19 year old wasn’t exactly something I really wanted to do. Then he started to get really touchy-feely and clingly, and it was only about an hour and a half into the date. He was trying to hold me from behind, hold my hand, nuzzle up to my neck, you know what I mean. People who really know me might be very shocked by this, but I was totally weirded out. I barely knew the guy, he was younger than me and he was getting a little close for comfort. I finally broke down and told him that it was a little too soon and that I needed a little more space. He continued down the path of being a perfect gentleman and backed off. For about a half hour. I spent the rest of the evening trying to stay a few feet away from his personal space attack and when he dropped me off, I told him I’d had fun and got out of the car. He, of course, wanted to walk me to the door. Ahhh great. More avoidance. At the door he tried to kiss me and I stealthily ducked it and headed inside. He grabbed my hand as I was on the way in and asked if he could call me again. “Uhhh, sure.” I hurriedly agreed and closed the door.
Bad idea, Kate. Bad, bad, bad.
That day, my first and only real stalker was born.
He must have called eight hundred times the next day. I didn’t answer my phone a single time because I’m a wuss and didn’t want to just tell him he had touchy-feeled his way out of my good graces. Also, I was working a twelve hour shift at the sports store covering for someone. It was a long day of working and avoiding, so to reward myself, I bought the first season of Friends and headed home to watch it in my living room. Ahhh bliss.
Or not.
Within ten minutes of settling in, my phone rang. It was Tim. I ignored the call and put the phone on silent. Bliss resumed.
Not.
About ten minutes after the phone call . . . (and several others I didn’t hear) my doorbell rings. Without even having to check, I knew it was him. So I huddled under the blanket on my couch and prayed he didn’t look through the front door and see me. Right about that moment, I saw the shadow of his head peeking through the arched glass in the top of the door. So I pretended I was asleep. While watching Friends and listening to the doorbell right. Good cover, Kate.
No lie, he was at the door for twenty minutes knocking and ringing the bell. I was on the couch pretending to be asleep. Totally awesome. He FINALLY left and I finished the disc and headed off to bed.
Two hours later, I hear my roommate Jessica come in and shuffle around in the living room for a second . . . then I heard a soft knock at my door. “Kate?” she whispered. “There’s some guy named Tim outside sitting in his car. He said he’s waiting for you to answer your phone or the door?”
Holy crap. This guy was getting creepy. And I knew he kept a gun in the car.
I opened the door and let her in and told her the story and told her I didn’t really want to see him . . . and to tell him I was sick and had been at home sleeping all night. She went outside and told him and we laughed about it for the rest of the night. (While I was secretly relieved he didn’t go all crazy and shoot somebody).
The next day he showed up at the sports store asking my manager where I was and why I wasn’t there (thank goodness I only worked there part time). Then he called me another ten million times (thank goodness for caller ID!). Then he showed up at my house AGAIN (thank goodness I wasn’t home). This happened about every other day for a week or so. I somehow managed to avoid him until finally, I got an angry message from him. He was babbling something about a spiritual connection and how could I and blah blah blah blah.
It was at this point that I decided to completely give up every other man but Richard. And now my resolve to make him mine was even stronger. He may have been a jerk, but he wasn’t suicidal, completely socially retarded or psychotic. I was going to make him love me if it killed me. I was determined that he was going to want to marry me.
