"You know that feeling where . . ."

Isn't it interesting that we view feelings as places?
As if sadness and loneliness and anger and fear and helplessness are just little woodlands we meander through. 
I like that.

GRRRRRRRRRR.

 This LiveJournal entry that I posted on December 30th, 2009 does a good job of explaining the current scenario.  Note that it takes a *lot* to turn me into this much of an angry bitch.  Note also that this is an LJ entry and thus it was not an actual sent letter.

Dear Mark,

Stop texting me.  Stop messaging me.  Stop emailing me.  I Have No Interest In You.  You broke up with me two and a half years ago, remember?  And thank you for that, by the way.  It was quite possibly the only positive thing you did for me, even if you did it for reasons unrelated.  The year I spent with you was the dumbest year of my life.  I'm not blaming you entirely for it but I'm not completely letting you off the hook for it either.  But you know what?  I'm over it.  And you.  I'm seriously, honestly, completely over you.  I don't think about you, Mark.  I don't ever think about you.  I have my own life now and it has nothing to do with you.  You think I'm still terribly angry at you or hurt or something, from two and a half fucking years ago.  Honestly, what the hell is your problem that you think I still invest ANY time into thinking of you?  I'm only reminded of you every month or so when you send me these creepy lonely desperate pathetic messages wanting to be friends with me.  Apparently my very brief replies declining the invitations have not given you the hint, so I'm just going to ignore you now.  I have literally no emotions invested in you EXCEPT that I'm fucking pissed that you're still sending me stuff.  I dare you to be more pathetic.  I mean I'm still very hurt that I'm not with Asa but even I have the common sense not to keep harrassing him with texts and emails and messages, and that was three months ago, not TWO AND A HALF YEARS.

Unfortunately I've deleted most of your messages and texts to me so I don't have much evidence to keep as little mementos of your personal comfort zone invasion, but here is a message you sent me on December 12th:

Hey it's Mark...
how have you been? alright here.. just been bounching around the northwest for the past few months after moving to portland.
Portland was alright but I felt like I needed to keep moving so yeah... anyway the reason I am saying hi is cause I'm actually back in town right now and I'm bored and i know that you are the craziest person I know in this town which in return makes you the the most sane in a weird sort of way that I'm sure you understand, so I was wondering if you wanted to hang out some time. I'm not really letting anyone else know I'm here cause I just don't want to deal with stupid people. I'll be here for a while though so they are all bound to find out. but for the time being I'm sorta hiding... hahaha
anyway, I don't have a phone and I havn't had one in like 6 months but you should call my old number which is now my brothers: 509-899-****
Hope to hear from you!
If not I understand cause I was quite and asshole to you way back when...
Mark

And here is the text you sent me an hour ago that prompted me to write this entry:

Hey its mark.  Just letting you know this is my new number.

I really wish I had saved some of the other messages you sent me because these do your desperation no justice at all.

 Then, twenty-two days later, on January 21st, 2010, I wrote this entry:

cuz, ya know, um, this is perfect timing for you to keep harassing me right

this actually happened monday night but i couldn't get out of bed and then i forgot about it

so i'm, ya know, passed out in my bed in post-surgery painland and all, it's HALF PAST MIDNIGHT on a MONDAY and i get a little beepy noise from my phone saying i have a text

and I open it and it says

"You really dont like me do you?"

and I'm thinking who the hell are you, mystery texter  because I made a point to delete his number from my phone because he irritates the fuck out of me and i don't want to be reminded of his desperateness.  so I reply,

"Who is this?"

but then I realise it's probably mark because he would completely do something like that.  So i memorise the phone number and go through my old texts and yep, it's mark.  so I write back:

"Oh it's mark.  honestly i don't even think about you at all.  i don't care.  Why are you texting me at 12am on a monday?  Why are you so obsessive?  It's creepy."

I never got a text back.  YAY HE'S GONE MAYBE

I thought he was gone.  Hooray!, thought I, he has vanished!  He will leave me alone to get on with my life!  Ten months passed.  I was in the clear.  Life was lookin' dandy.  And then, fool that I am, I decided to log into MySpace for the first time in about a month just to see if anybody had sent me anything.  And lo and behold, posted on my MySpace, was a comment from 'Last Thursday' from Mark.  And it said,

How's life?

He refuses to go away!  MAKE HIM GO AWAY.
I posted this in his MySpace comments.  Please, Please, Please let this be the end of this.  PLEASE make him go away.  PLEASE.

 

Leave me alone.
Do not call me.
Do not write me.
Do not message me.
Do not text me.
Do not comment me.
Do not ask how I am doing.
Do not talk about me.
Do not hold out any hope that I will ever socialise with you again.
I do not like you. I want you to stay away from me.
Please, please, please. LEAVE ME ALONE.

Jesus Christ.  I find it slightly horrifying that he would even find anything appealing in my personality, considering I strive to be Not Like Mark At All.