A 23-Year-Old's Inevitable Stalking Itch

In an earlier blog tittle, I mentioned the dangers of forming attachments, particularly to people. Although I don't claim to be an expert on life by any means, I'm a relatively sound observer. I spend a lot of time taking in what's going on around me. Interestingly enough, I find that people in their early twenties do some bizarre, self-centered things.

For instance, I recently met one of my neighboring apartment's inhabitants, Sam. I noticed him smoking one day and politely asked to borrow a cigarette. After this, the 23-year-old and I somehow struck up conversation. Er, rather, he struck up conversation. I, on the other hand, could barely get in a word edgewise. He went on and on about this drunk story and that, about how his 21-year-old girlfriend cheated on him, and how could she be so stupid as to think he would go back to her when she would come to her senses and decide she wanted him back? That wasn't the end on that topic. The details were ceaseless.

And while I was listening to this--forgive me to those of you who are in your early twenties, but for lack of a better term--child palaver on about how he just doesn't understand: what is she thinking? How could she not see how great he was? Why did he stay with her though she continued to treat him like shit? While this was all contributing to my up-and-coming headache, I was thinking: Run away! Head for the hills! This dude is damaged goods. But, wait, oh yes--he's 23. 

Apart from age observations, I've come to know the recently-heartbroken type all too well. Men often do not appear to understand the #1 reigning strategy to turn a woman OFF and send her interest down, down to china town: TALK ABOUT THE EX. But then, I suppose those who are preoccupied with talking about their exes aren't really concerned with turning any particular female on anyhow, except of course for their exes, but those thoughts probably look something like: Whoa is me, I can't turn her on anymore. She's the center of my universe, how will I go on? Cry me a fucking river, really. 

So I'm a nice gal. I don't judge, which may surprise you because some of these sweeping generalizations I'm setting forth might seem a bit biting. What can I say, I'm a scorpio? But because I don't judge, that day out on my landing I listened to the young lad and smoked away, keeping my non-judgements to myself. But for some reason, I also gave him my phone number. You know, because we are neighbors. Maybe I was thinking we could grill sometime. 

Big mistake. He started texting me every 20 minutes. Let's go have a smoke. I sure could use a smoke. I'm about to start freaking out. What? Do women respond to that? I'm about to start freaking out? 23-year-old: what you must understand is that women in their 30s typically have spent a lot of time dealing with drama already, and are not altogether interested in continuing down the line of life allowing it into their daily regimen of thought processes. Come on! 

So I figured: if I ignore these text messages, he'll go away. Not so lucky. Can I ask you something? Do you think I'm good looking? Did you mean the nice things you said to me the other day? Dude, you mean when I told you you don't need to deal with a 21-year-old's drama? Shit, I said that not realizing that you must have your own. Oops. The barrage of questions (which were not responded to on my part, mind you) continued: Are you staying in tonight? Come hang out with me and my friend. Want to smoke a cigarette later?

I'm telling you from my end, I never did anything CLOSE to this type of thing when I was 23. I never cried to my boyfriends because they didn't love me enough, or understand me, or prioritize me. I never sent them follow-up messages to their lack-of-responses, just to get them to respond. I certainly NEVER asked them to tell me I was sexy, or screamed at them unwarrantedly just because I was insecure and no matter what they did, nothing would be enough. Noway, I got lucky in my twenties. I must have surpassed that whole drama phase. Phew. 

But the moral of the story is this: think twice when you offer your ears, or open up in any way to someone who is not at your level of emotional maturity, particularly if they live 30 yards away from where you sleep. It could come back to haunt you. 

I surmise that one safe generalization can be made of both men and women: if one he or one she is wounded from a previous relationship, or has not had enough time to figure him-or herself out, behavior that walks a dangerously fine line next to stalking can abound. If we are insecure, we want someone to tell us everything is going to be okay. But don't forget: no matter how old or young we are, unfortunately nobody can do that for us other than ourselves. Are you stalktastic? Think about it.