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» We have to talk

My twunt of an ex
who I have touched on in previous QOTWs, holds the record for this.

Picture the scene: I was out wandering around town on my own, minding my own business, and I spy boyfriend a few feet away.

Boyfriend is with a woman a couple of years older than me. Boyfriend has a little girl who is the image of him sat in his arms. Boyfriend catches sight of me, and the look on his face said something like "Oh cock."*

So, not wanting to fight in the middle of the street with a bunch of chavs egging me on, I go home and send him a text saying "So, the child." He agrees to come and talk about it, and the gist of the conversation is something like "I like to keep my private life private. So, sex."

Click "I like this" if you think I should have spanged him.

*Despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary my ex is not James May.
(Fri 20th Apr 2007, 17:54, More)

» Stalked

Anyone who knows me offline, or gazzed me for the And That Was The Thanks I Got QOTW
will know the ins and outs of this already, as this is something I refused to post last year. Now that it seems it's all done and dusted, and we are indeed no longer even pretending to be friends, I have no qualms about sharing it.

So, I give you:

The Tale of Stalker Girl

This particular scariness originates from a girl in a seminar I took in my first year of uni, who I initially got chatting to about something random; she added me to her MSN, and introduced me to her crazy love life, which, as it turned out, featured a guy from her corridor who, apparently, treated her terribly - he would sleep with her, then ignore her till he wanted to sleep with her again.

In between these events she would whine, cry, stress, listen to depressing music and send him bitchy emails demanding an explanation as to why he was ignoring her. The part I couldn't understand at first was why she *kept* going back to him when she knew what was going to happen. I now realise that she just likes to be miserable, and likes to cause as much drama as possible. And Gods help you if you're happy in her presence when she's "upset"...

Anyway, one by one her friends got rather sick of mopping her up because he was ignoring her, and so they told her that in future it was her funeral and if she wouldn't listen to good advice then they never wanted to hear another word about the whole thing. Eventually this number came down to one person... me, and I was too polite to say no.

Unfortunately because of the size of our campus, I have a few friends who know him, or know someone who does. Naturally some of my friends were a bit perturbed by the random girl crying over someone who clearly didn't care about her, and some of them have as a result stopped speaking to me because they think I must be the same. A friend of a friend was around, saw she was with me and said "Oh, I know you, you were on *****'s corridor last year!" "Oh yes, I know him! He does drama! We're friends... more than friends!" "Ah - that's not what he says. He's told everyone he knows you're stalking him."

What followed was more drama than a Myspace flame war, and this went on for the next year. She confronted him about the rumours, and ... slept with him. The cycle of the previous year continued, until... OH NOES! He got a proper girlfriend after telling her he didn't want a relationship (who, incidentally, he is still with, and while I don't know the guy other than by sight, good on him). The people she's whining to tell her "aren't you over that yet?" and tell her to shut up, she gets more upset and continues threatening to drop out, and saying she'll never talk to any of those people ever again, especially as more and more of them tell her they believe his side of the story. Again, leaving just me (she kept trying to get me to glare at him and shout at him "I hope you're satisfied!" and things like that if I saw him when the poor guy clearly didn't know me from Adam and cared less). Needless to say, I never did.

Anyway, she was sent to the same university as me for the first half of my Erasmus year. There were six or so of us there from our uni, as well as lots of Americans and some Aussies, and generally all the English-speakers kind of clumped together and talked. Not her, though. Oh no. In between telling me stories about how she knew they didn't want "us" around as there was no room made for us, and how we could only trust one another (remind you of anyone?), and telling anyone who invited us to come and sit them "no, we have things to talk about". She would start conversations like "I get randomly jealous..." "of what?" "Oh, forget I said anything..." "oh FFS..." and then never continue them until the next day, when she would come marching up to me "YOU IGNORED ME YESTERDAY!" and then stamp off.

She refused to go on all the nights out that were organised and the moment there was even a sniff of one "Oh I'm so tired, I feel so ill, I think I'll give this one a miss..." and then expect me to either do the same, or she would come out anyway but whine all evening about how "unfair" it was that she had to socialise and how if she didn't come everyone would bitch about her and say how she was faking it and being boring and ultimately would expect me to accompany her home when she got bored after an hour "in case she got raped" (a rather worrying obsession of hers), meaning that to all intents and purposes I wasn't able to have a life of my own. It got to the point where some people would be surprised to see me on my own and ask me where she was.

EDIT EDIT EDIT: There's more to this, that I completely forgot about. For starters, one day during lunch we were sitting with some twin girls from Iran, and discussing the relative merits of siblinghood (stalker girl and I are both only children). Stalker girl pipes up "I don't need a sister, I have Maladicta... she follows me like a shadow!" and grinned psychotically. This was one of the few times I told her she was being a nutcase, and said quietly "Would you mind going back to where Mariam and Zahra are sitting and telling them you just made that up?" to be confronted with the mother of all shitfits: "OH COME ON! IT WAS A JOKE!" and then stamping off in her usual manner, one reminiscent of a pissed off duck.

Also, in keeping with her "not-sharing-Maladicta-with-anyone-they-might-steal-her" policy, another time we were assigned to do some sort of presentation with two girls from India. Stalker girl takes an immediate dislike to one of them, claiming she thinks the girl fancies her (for someone who was bi one minute and not the next, this is a little hypocritical), and makes a fuss about working with them. As it happened, they lived in the same halls as us, and so we arranged to meet up one Saturday night to go over what we had. After knocking and waiting for about five seconds, stalker girl says "Oh, they're not in" and insists we return to her lair to carry on watching Red Dwarf or something. Three hours later, I am still sat on her bed and feeling incredibly fidgety (she also tried to take my keys off me so I couldn't go back to my own room by pretending to be interested in the keyring I was using, despite thinking having one shaped like handcuffs would "give people the wrong idea" for the same reason she was allowed to wear short skirts (and she was not what anyone would call suited to them) because I would "get a reputation as a slut"*). I digress. There's a knock at the door and on opening it, the two girls are there apologising for not being in as they'd been to Germany for the day. Stalker girl says "fair enough, don't worry about it, we've done our part" and shuts the door. She scowls and what she said next will haunt me for the rest of my life:

"You know what I should have done?"
"No."
"I should have got into my underwear, put my dressing gown on, opened the door a crack with my vibrator** in my hand and said 'do you mind? Me and Maladicta are shagging.'" That was the day I mentally ran screaming out of her room, but in reality I simply got up and said I needed to go home (and even then she'd walk me halfway back to my corridor in case I went visiting someone else).

The worst thing I can think of that she did was completely ruin my 21st birthday. The night before she came round claiming to be "pissing blood" (she regularly fakes being ill, she's had warts, chlamydia and various other ladies' problems according to her, and it's always something that isn't immediately obvious so you can't be 100% sure she's faking, so you can understand why I just said "well okay, see how you are tomorrow.").

True to her word she dragged me out of my last lecture of the day the next day "it's happening again..." (after no mention of it all day) and straight to A&E, where we stayed for three hours (I opened my birthday cards there), where she was examined (I wasn't in the room, so I don't know for sure if the doctor really did say she had the kidney stone she claimed to have), and she constantly whining "I've ruined your birthday, you should just go..." so in the end I said "Bye, then" and went home to have fun with the friends she'd been trying to prevent me from having a party with. We have wine and pizza and generally have fun till about 11pm, when she returns from the hospital, claiming to have absolutely nothing visibly wrong with her. And the next day, having been in agony yesterday with the most painful thing known to man, is able to stamp about in my kitchen like a spoilt duckling with pigtails when she is unable to make the perfect pancake, yelling "I'm so stupid!" over and over before running off in tears.

What did she get me for my birthday, I hear you cry? A set of admittedly very pretty underwear from La Senza I had mentioned liking in passing, plus as we'd been clothes shopping together a few times she knew my sizes. I pretend to this day they were from my then boyfriend.

Speaking of whom, around this time I met him through QOTW (we're still friends), and made the mistake of telling her (well, she saw me type "I love you" on MSN, I had no choice but to tell her). She spent the whole day calling me a "selfish cow" and how she "liked having a single friend", and how she was going to "go home and play with knives" and "would it kill me to spend some time with her", and all the usual empty threats. For once I argued back and told her it was my business and I would continue to see him for as long as I wanted, not as long as she wanted. This led to endless needling about how "internet relationships aren't real" (she had had one not too long before this, which ended when he "tried to rape her" in some random layby near to the pikey hell she lives in) and comments about "if I find out you're having an evening in with him I'll interrupt you pretending to be upset". She also pretended to be "worried" about me and hoped this would incite me to dump the poor bloke, but I'm pleased to say this failed miserably.

This eventually led to me feeling like I was being constantly watched: as well as doing everything in her power to keep me away from MSN and my emails, so I wouldn't talk to him, and constantly telling me he was "a rapist", she threatened to kill herself when I told her I wanted to cook on my own of an evening and spend time with people who weren't her "I nearly SLIT MY WRISTS LAST NIGHT and you JUST DON'T CARE!", telling me it was "unfair" to see mutual friends without her, and generally behaving like a spoilt brat.

Relieved I was finally seeing the real Brian (for that blatantly is not her name), I finally snapped (this is quite hard to make me do, and is reserved only for people who really, really cross the line). Looking back, it was only because so many others believed me and understood why exactly she was driving me so nuts that I survived it all, although knowing I had support made me a lot more gung-ho about telling her to shut the fuck up when it was needed and finally gave me the backbone to tell her where to stick her clinginess. I repeatedly told her to fuck off and leave me alone, and acted as I do to Stalker Boy, to no avail as she denied all knowledge of her behaviour "Why are you snapping at me? All I'm doing is being friendly..." and would complain to anyone who'd listen that "the girl I thought was my best friend doesn't want to spend time with me, we never do anything together any more" (please note, I'd not even been able to go to the toilet without her coming before this, in case I bitched about her to the toilet roll dispenser).

As a result of this, she uninvited me to her own birthday, as I was "constantly snapping at me, and I don't want you spoiling my day", then seemed to have forgotten about it the next day and reinvited me, then was surprised when I'd made other arrangements. Fortunately, a week later she went home for the holidays and I left Switzerland a week after that. And I have had minimal contact with her since, as it seems that 10 months of ignoring someone is enough for anyone to get the message. She does periodically read b3ta, so if she didn't know before she will now, I think.

Click "I like this" if you think I've had more than my fair share of stalkers.

And length? I had to hear about that, and the girth, and what he did with it, far too many times. It's a wonder I don't like girls.


* Meanwhile, I have to hear all the details of her fucked-up sex life (rape fantasies, anyone?) and how she is simply dying for a full bondage kit to play with. OH GOD THE IMAGES.
** Not to mention regularly hear about how many vibrators she had, and know exactly where she kept them and how often she used them.

(Thu 31st Jan 2008, 21:14, More)

» Karma

I have touched on this tale in the past.
Now, only this QOTW and dark chocolate are persuading me to tell it, mainly because it's something that affects me still today from time to time; when I get a bit low, it all comes back to me.

When I was a smaller Maladicta of about eleven, there was another new kid who joined our class at school. However, he was the total opposite of Stalker Boy, in that for some reason I still don't fully understand, he immediately took against me and made it his life's work to make me feel as miserable and unwelcome within about ten feet of him as possible. And by some horribly perverse twist of fate, I had a little girlie crush on him (do you ever wish that you could go back in time and slap your younger self silly? I do). He knew this all too well, and used it to his advantage to make things as difficult as possible for me. We shall call him Luke, for that was his name.

He quickly became extremely popular with the teachers, for as well as being "charming" and sweet to all outward appearances, he was a straight-A student who always did his homework and never got anything below 80% in an exam. He also became extremely popular with the girls in my year, not because he was attractive (he looked like an anorexic mole, or Rachelswipe's starving baby bird description) but because he was apparently very good at giving advice and was a good laugh. Over the course of the next few years, he managed to turn the entire school year, bar a couple of people (Stalker Boy, clearly, used to switch sides and would always delight in telling me what he'd said), but in the end they'd always cave to pressure and end up joining in.

Luke specialised not in physical violence, mainly because he was a weed of epic proportions, but he was a master at messing with your head. His favourite tricks were to steal my homework out of my desk or out of my books to make me look stupid when I came to hand it in, before saying "Oooo she's not done it, you should punish her, sir", hiding my books and homework planner (which if you lost for more than about a day every single teacher would throw a shitfit about), hacking my network user (in reality just leaning over my shoulder when I typed in my password, I suppose) and copying all my stuff onto the common drive (not that I had anything offensive on there, which didn't deter him because he just made textfiles saying "I, [Maladicta], love [History Teacher] and want his babies!!111" which got me into trouble), claimed to have hacked into my (locked) former blog and read all my secrets, yet was unable to produce evidence, repeatedly "went out" with (in other words, held hands with constantly, this was Year 9) my slaggy ex-best "friend" simply to mess with my head, and it was him who announced that I was "in love" with my history teacher to the entire school at the swimming gala, inventing a girlfriend who was "a model", when really her picture was just cut out of Sugar (this had no effect other than making me laugh at how far he was willing to go, including setting up a fake email account for her to yell at me off), in between telling me that he and no one else would ever love me or want to have sex with me because I was so fat and useless and ugly.

Why didn't I tell anyone? Because I knew I'd get no sympathy from anyone and because if I told any teachers, it would be my word against his and I already knew what a capable and manipulative liar he was. All it would have taken was a couple of tears from him, and I would be the bad guy. It just wasn't worth it.

By Year 10, then, I was a wreck; no self-confidence at all, virtually no friends (unless you count Stalker Boy, and I don't), no life outside of school other than the ones I made online (who were a great help to me, and I'm still in touch with a lot of them). I'm merely focused on one thing: getting him to leave me alone and to finally quit hurting me. By this stage, everyone and their dog had MSN and he'd bugged me on it for some time, not least when anyone I liked (he always seemed to find out) got a girlfriend, and one day, after enjoying taunting me because I was "on the shelf, where you'll always be" I finally snapped and told him he was a manipulative, twisted bastard who didn't deserve to live, and that I hated him and hoped he died. The ensuing row continued for about five minutes, with him mocking me, saying I "always have to be the tragic victim" and telling me how pathetic I was to even think anyone cared about me. And finally, I got a backbone. BLOCK.

This was just before the start of Year 11, and by then, something had snapped inside me and I was refusing to take any more of his crap. I blocked every single email address he'd ever used to annoy me, deleted him off my MSN and made it clear to anyone who talked to me that if they added him into the conversation, I would do the same to them. He found ways to get around this, like getting his cousin's friend, who just happened to be a lesbian (he was trying to convince me that the reason no one would go out with me was because I was secretly gay) to chat me up over MSN, and when he was mentioned "he just wants to be your friend". I ignored him at school to the point of not even registering he'd said anything to me, and not even acknowledging his existence by the end of the year. Gradually, I felt better, and this was made even better one evening when I was talking to a newish friend of mine online (hello Pete) and he said "look, Luke wants me to add him in, if he says anything mean you can leave straight away but he says it's important". I reluctantly agree, and he says (and this is why I hate people who type like this over the internets - why type like a retard if you're supposed to be so intelligent?) "after GCSE, im movin 2 Canada!!!".

One victory lap of the house later, I sit down at the PC again and type "oh that's nice."

Of course, as soon as word got out that he was leaving, there was teenage drama aplenty: girls clinging to him begging him not to leave, saying they'd miss him soooooo much and that he had to come back to visit, and then telling me I was "heartless" for saying I wouldn't miss "lovely" Luke.

Finally, he was gone, and life went on like it had done before, but with a lot less angsting, bar a letter he sent me (address courtesy - surprise surprise - of Stalker Boy), saying that he had only ever picked on me "because u were different" and trying to justify his actions by saying "I didn't know how 2 treat u other than 2 be mean 2 u and I still think ur bein harsh cuz u won't talk 2 me" (he actually wrote like this, in posh fountain pen, it was quite surreal). I think part of it was that we were all growing up, and bar the odd mention of his name, and Stalker Boy mooning over how much he missed him (he fancied him, I later discovered), things were pretty much as good as they could be. He came back to England for the last week we were all at school and true to form, picked up exactly where he left off, meaning I got a lot of texts from him wanting to "meet up" and saying he couldn't wait to see me on Friday. I don't mind admitting I ignored him, just as I used to, that Friday, and never said a word to him the entire day: not that he would have needed it, being surrounded by his entourage yet again. And so, I left the school confident that he would never see me or be able to hurt me again.

Two months later, quite late in the evening, I get several missed calls on my phone, all from "Stalker Boy Home". We still had dialup at the time, so I disconnect and call him back, figuring he wants to talk about our up and coming trip of nightmares to Spain (if there's ever another Holidays from Hell, I will talk about this too). I get his mum, who asks to talk to mine, and after about five minutes, mum puts her hand over the receiver and informs me in hushed tones that Luke is dead. The phone then gets passed to me, and all I hear is the sobbing of Stalker Boy, interspersed with odd words that sound like "forgive and forget" and "he never meant you any harm". Eventually he manages to tell me what happened, that there was an accident on some highway where he was living, and that the car was totalled. My first thought, I'm ashamed to say, was "Karma's a bitch".

And that is why I hate public school, although I'm now living a life I never thought I would: at uni, with plenty of friends (bar the odd stalkery type) and a boyfriend who loves me to bits and treats me like a princess (aww), not least because he understands and is willing to put up with the fact I have moments where my self-esteem is nonexistent. I call that karma.

Apologies for length, it's cathartic.
(Sat 23rd Feb 2008, 11:22, More)

» Stalked

Updated pearoast (come on, you knew I'd do this, this QOTW is made for me)
The Tale of Stalker Boy
(I'll condense this as much as I can, it's a long story.)

When I was nine or so a new kid joined my school in the middle of the year. Nothing new there, except my mum struck up a friendship with their mum, and invited them both round for tea. I was NOT happy. The problem?
He was a BOY! Ewwww! (if you're nine it's ewww, anyway.)
Anyway, we shall call him Andrew, for that is his name. And on meeting him properly my mum announced that he was 'such a lovely boy, so gifted at the piano' and more or less said "you be nice to him or ELSE." I wasn't keen on him, he used to call me stupid names and rubbed my cat's fur the wrong way (she bit him, woo). So yeah, he only put on the nice act for parents. Git. And because our mums were friends, he decided we absolutely HAD to be friends and so wherever I went in school I had a fat-kid shadow. Even though we had absolutely nothing in common and he smelt (like boys do when you're nine).
Yay. So obviously at that age all my little girlie friends were going "Andrew fancies Maladicta! Andrew fancies Maladicta!". Bearing in mind he's still the campest kid I've ever seen, but he never denied it. Such was his power over people's parents that when he claimed some of my friends had ganged up on him and kicked him to the ground (there were apparently five of them and he was twice the size of all of them) my mum wouldn't let me see them out of school for a month. I was only allowed to see him. So yeah, one-sided intense friendship.

Fast forward ten or so years and we're doing A-levels. He falls out with a mutual friend (a bitchy gay guy called Tris) and spends all his time whining to me about how unpopular he is and how mean Tris is being to him, and so on and so on. And at this point, it's just me and him doing A-levels in French and German, So just me and him in the classes. In between making disgusting stories up about me getting raped by our disturbing German teacher, he liked to report back to me everything mean people said about me and then say "Calm down dear, it's a commercial" when I got upset. After we finally left that dump and went to uni I spent my entire first term getting preachy emails off him going on about "you're far too eager to loose [sic] your virginity and that's not right. You must wait for the absolute perfect moment and the absolute perfect person..." - annoying enough as it is, but meanwhile he's shagging anything with a pulse and expects me to act differently. He also wanted to meet "anyone you even kiss once to see if they get my approval or not, and if I don't like him and he's not right for you I will sort him out!!!!!". And "How do you know your 'friends' at uni aren't talking about you right now? They don't know you like I do.", "How do you know he's not with you for a bet?", "I think you should come home every weekend so I can give you a big hug!!!!!"

There were hundreds of these emails, and basically, he was trying to undermine my confidence all the time, convince me everyone was out to get me and the only person I could trust in the world was him, because everyone else hated me, and so because he was my only friend I needed to spend £50 a week on coming home for about three hours. And in case you hadn't gathered, I was only allowed to have one friend. Him. Not to mention the lie he told me about how my parents asked him to tell them if a man even breathed on me - he begged me not to tell them I knew "because then they won't trust me any more...". He liked to smarm up to my parents every time he came over (uninvited, a lot) by asking them all about Wales, how he wanted to learn Welsh, and most annoying of all, he'd take the piss out of me in front of them for things he'd lost his temper over - stupid things like needing to go to the toilet during a film or get cash out would result in him yelling "OH FOR GOD'S SAKE! YOU HAVE NO COMMON SENSE!" and similar things, then going quiet on me for hours on end. He was a fucking nightmare and as he'd got himself in so deep with my parents (I'm convinced he fancies my mum) it took me months to convince them he was bad news and that no, I did not want him in the house ever again.

In the meantime, at the end of my first term at uni he invites himself down to stay (by telling my parents I'd invited him and by the time they mentioned it to me they were halfway there). Thank Eris it was the end of term because I'd told all my friends he wasn't my friend, but stalker boy, and I don't think I could have dealt with anyone I have respect for meeting him. So we spent a hellish day and a half with him wanting to meet up with all my friends so he could judge them, and giving me endless hours of lectures about 'forgive and forget' and the 'fun we had in our lessons' and 'what a special bond we have because of our languages'. That would be the same bond that only he can see.

It was the same a month or so before when I came home for a couple of days and the minute I got home he was there like a lovesick puppy. He backed me into a corner about coming to stay with him for a couple of days, and when I got on the train he rang me "Now then dear, you are on the right train, aren't you? The one that says Nottingham on the front?" (He always calls me 'dear', which is another thing that makes him such a prick.) And when I got off the train he grabbed me and hugged me (think the anti-escape orb from The Prisoner crossed with Homer Simpson) and said "Ooh, it's so good to see you, dear! By the way, everyone thinks you're my ex."
WTF? doesn't come close to what I said. So I had to spend a day or so with him and his surprisingly nice uni friends knowing that they all thought we'd... ewwwwwwwww (whatever age you are). So that was fun.

And finally, he was at his absolute worst Christmas 2004 - he invited me and my parents to theirs for Christmas dinner. Bear in mind my parents are at this point slowly coming round to the idea that he's an abusive cunt. We get there, and he hugs my mum and kisses her on the cheek, then does the same to me. Again, ewwwwwwww (you know what you do when scary lipsticky aunties with moustaches try to kiss you? Yep, I did that). He spent all of the time we were there trying to humiliate me by dragging up things from primary school and generally being his usual self "Ooh, do you remember when this happened, dear? Why don't you try the Elvis wig on? Does it still take you five hundred hours to get ready in the morning, and put on all your bloody make-up and do your hair and choose some shoes?". This is why I don't understand why any girl in her right mind wants to shag him.

Finally, he said it was time to open presents. He bought my mum a pot plant, my dad something random I don't remember and what did he buy me? A fucking lacy garter. "Er, thanks..."

The final thing he did that really pissed me off was his opinion of my choice of university. I go to uni in Canterbury, which is fairly sleepy and doesn't have the world's most intense nightlife, and I like it that way. He goes to Nottingham, with its 5000 clubs and someone getting raped, mugged or stabbed every day. He told me once "You live in a rosy little world there and it wouldn't hurt you to come into the real world..." (read: transfer to Nottingham so I can stalk you easier), and I said "At least I'm not afraid of being raped every time I leave my house." To which he replied "It'd do you good to have to worry about that, it'd toughen you up."

Since then I've blocked him on MSN, ignore all his calls and texts, and have not heard from the sick freak in two years nearly. Of course to do this, I had to move to Canterbury and my parents had to move to Wales.

I would apologise for length, but I'm guessing he has none. I'd rather not find out. Ever. Ewwwwwww.

More recent and non-pearoast stalkery escapades to follow...
(Thu 31st Jan 2008, 20:25, More)

» Intense Friendships

The Tale of Stalker Boy
(I'll condense this as much as I can, it's a long story.)

When I was nine or so a new kid joined my school in the middle of the year. Nothing new there, except my mum struck up a friendship with their mum, and invited them both round for tea. I was NOT happy. The problem?
He was a BOY! Ewwww! (if you're nine it's ewww, anyway.)
Anyway, we shall call him Andrew, for that is his name. And on meeting him properly my mum announced that he was 'such a lovely boy, so gifted at the piano' and more or less said "you be nice to him or ELSE." I wasn't keen on him, he used to call me stupid names and rubbed my cat's fur the wrong way (she bit him, woo). So yeah, he only put on the nice act for parents. Git. And because our mums were friends, he decided we absolutely HAD to be friends and so wherever I went in school I had a fat-kid shadow. Even though we had absolutely nothing in common and he smelt (like boys do when you're nine).
Yay. So obviously at that age all my little girlie friends were going "Andrew fancies Maladicta! Andrew fancies Maladicta!". Bearing in mind he's still the campest kid I've ever seen, but he never denied it. Such was his power over people's parents that when he claimed some of my friends had ganged up on him and kicked him to the ground (there were apparently five of them and he was twice the size of all of them) my mum wouldn't let me see them out of school for a month. I was only allowed to see him. So yeah, one-sided intense friendship.

Fast forward ten or so years and we're doing A-levels. He falls out with a mutual friend (a bitchy gay guy called Tris) and spends all his time whining to me about how unpopular he is and how mean Tris is being to him, and so on and so on. And at this point, it's just me and him doing A-levels in French and German, So just me and him in the classes. In between making disgusting stories up about me getting raped by our disturbing German teacher, he liked to report back to me everything mean people said about me and then say "Calm down dear, it's a commercial" when I got upset. After we finally left that dump and went to uni I spent my entire first term getting preachy emails off him going on about "you're far too eager to loose [sic] your virginity and that's not right. You must wait for the absolute perfect moment and the absolute perfect person..." - annoying enough as it is, but meanwhile he's shagging anything with a pulse and expects me to act differently. He also wanted to meet "anyone you even kiss once to see if they get my approval or not, and if I don't like him and he's not right for you I will sort him out!!!!!". And "How do you know your 'friends' at uni aren't talking about you right now? They don't know you like I do.", "How do you know he's not with you for a bet?", "I think you should come home every weekend so I can give you a big hug!!!!!"

There were hundreds of these emails, and basically, he was trying to undermine my confidence all the time, convince me everyone was out to get me and the only person I could trust in the world was him, because everyone else hated me, and so because he was my only friend I needed to spend £50 a week on coming home for about three hours. And in case you hadn't gathered, I was only allowed to have one friend. Him. Not to mention the lie he told me about how my parents asked him to tell them if a man even breathed on me - he begged me not to tell them I knew "because then they won't trust me any more...". He liked to smarm up to my parents every time he came over (uninvited, a lot) by asking them all about Wales, how he wanted to learn Welsh, and most annoying of all, he'd take the piss out of me in front of them for things he'd lost his temper over - stupid things like needing to go to the toilet during a film or get cash out would result in him yelling "OH FOR GOD'S SAKE! YOU HAVE NO COMMON SENSE!" and similar things, then going quiet on me for hours on end. He was a fucking nightmare and as he'd got himself in so deep with my parents (I'm convinced he fancies my mum) it took me months to convince them he was bad news and that no, I did not want him in the house ever again.

In the meantime, at the end of my first term at uni he invites himself down to stay (by telling my parents I'd invited him and by the time they mentioned it to me they were halfway there). Thank Eris it was the end of term because I'd told all my friends he wasn't my friend, but stalker boy, and I don't think I could have dealt with anyone I have respect for meeting him. So we spent a hellish day and a half with him wanting to meet up with all my friends so he could judge them, and giving me endless hours of lectures about 'forgive and forget' and the 'fun we had in our lessons' and 'what a special bond we have because of our languages'. That would be the same bond that only he can see.

It was the same a month or so before when I came home for a couple of days and the minute I got home he was there like a lovesick puppy. He backed me into a corner about coming to stay with him for a couple of days, and when I got on the train he rang me "Now then dear, you are on the right train, aren't you? The one that says Nottingham on the front?" (He always calls me 'dear', which is another thing that makes him such a prick.) And when I got off the train he grabbed me and hugged me (think the anti-escape orb from The Prisoner crossed with Homer Simpson) and said "Ooh, it's so good to see you, dear! By the way, everyone thinks you're my ex."
WTF? doesn't come close to what I said. So I had to spend a day or so with him and his surprisingly nice uni friends knowing that they all thought we'd... ewwwwwwwww (whatever age you are). So that was fun.

And finally, he was at his absolute worst Christmas 2004 - he invited me and my parents to theirs for Christmas dinner. Bear in mind my parents are at this point slowly coming round to the idea that he's an abusive cunt. We get there, and he hugs my mum and kisses her on the cheek, then does the same to me. Again, ewwwwwwww (you know what you do when scary lipsticky aunties with moustaches try to kiss you? Yep, I did that). He spent all of the time we were there trying to humiliate me by dragging up things from primary school and generally being his usual self "Ooh, do you remember when this happened, dear? Why don't you try the Elvis wig on? Does it still take you five hundred hours to get ready in the morning, and put on all your bloody make-up and do your hair and choose some shoes?". This is why I don't understand why any girl in her right mind wants to shag him.

Finally, he said it was time to open presents. He bought my mum a pot plant, my dad something random I don't remember and what did he buy me? A fucking lacy garter. "Er, thanks..."

The final thing he did that really pissed me off was his opinion of my choice of university. I go to uni in Canterbury, which is fairly sleepy and doesn't have the world's most intense nightlife, and I like it that way. He goes to Nottingham, with its 5000 clubs and someone getting raped, mugged or stabbed every day. He told me once "You live in a rosy little world there and it wouldn't hurt you to come into the real world..." (read: transfer to Nottingham so I can stalk you easier), and I said "At least I'm not afraid of being raped every time I leave my house." To which he replied "It'd do you good to have to worry about that, it'd toughen you up."

Since then I've blocked him on MSN, ignore all his calls and texts, and only see him when absolutely forced to. If he does contact me, I grunt answers and get away from him as quickly as I can. The worst part is that he thinks what he's doing is totally normal and can't understand why I'm 'so funny with me now, it must be her uni friends and boyfriend that have turned her against me...'. He also likes to brag about his sexual conquests to me (again, ewwwwwwww), and how because he's too pretentious to be anything like anyone else, he's "trisexual - gay, straight and bi all in one." Seriously. His mum knows better than he does that I'm sick of him - you know that Friends episode where Monica goes out with the guy from high school and he's no different? That's him, but looking like Toadie from Neighbours's ugly brother.

I would apologise for length, but I'm guessing he has none. I'd rather not find out. Ever. Ewwwwwww.
(Mon 31st Jul 2006, 23:28, More)
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