These people - erm, sick f*cks, I mean, feed on fear. This is why it's so important not to be paralyzed by fear, and not stake out the smallest little corner of the world in which to hide, but to live and thrive. Easier said than done, I know.
That is exactly what this whole past decade has been about for him. He didn't stalk me out of attraction, but control. I can't give the whole low down because of the case, but I had stood up to him on behalf of someone else he was terrorizing. He's a little punk of a man. Hell, I could probably just sit on him if he ever got close enough.
I really don't miss out on a lot, since there is no where to go around here anyway. Had this never happened, my outward life would probably very much resemble the one I have now, just without all the inner turmoil and anxiety. I have always quickly transferred fear into anger. I'm pretty angry now. I never was a warm, fuzzy anyway. My mother contends I was born holding a martini in one hand, a long cigarette in the other, and just glaring at the other babies in the nursery thinking, "Seriously, would you just grow up already!"
Surprisingly, people have always been drawn to me. I guess because they know what they're getting, but I don't have any local friends anymore. They either annoyed the hell out of me, or if there were ones I liked, I didn't want to drag them into this mess. If he goes up, I might feel safe enough to reconnect with some of those folks, but people aren't at the top of my list of needs. I just want to get to the point that if I want to go out, I go out. If I want to stay home, I stay home. Neither is dictated from, or overshadowed, with fear.