My Stalker

So, I've tweeted about this a few times, but I have a stalker. I mean, the word's not entirely accurate - more like an internet stalker? I won't reveal his name, but let's call him...Tyler.

Tyler and I have a few classes together this year. We kind of started talking during my school's play back in November, but he apparently thought that my smiling when I saw him and occasionally talking to him backstage meant that we were really good friends. I sort of just figured us to be acquaintances, but...okay.

And then it began. He started messaging me on Facebook Chat almost every time I was on, he would comment on all my statuses, and then - and here's the real kicker - he would message me to ask me to explain what a status meant if he didn't understand it. Okay, um, Tyler? If you don't understand it, nor is it in any way relevant to anything we've ever talked about, THEN IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR YOU. Therefore, you have NO RIGHT to ask me about it.

That's pretty much how things have been since the middle of November. I'm too nice to say anything, because I HATE confronting people. I just can't do it - it makes my tummy hurt. So, Tyler, if you're reading this (and I'm sure you will, because you seem to follow EVERYTHING I do on the internet. Thank God he hasn't figured out my email address or screenname), I'll say this in the passive-aggressive way that prevents me from ever having to say it to your face: LEAVE. ME. THE. FUCK. ALONE.