because my intuition doesn't like you
Had a beautiful afternoon I can't even begin to describe. After a pastry and cafe creme I walked along the Seine until my legs felt like they were going to fall off, and felt truly in love with Paris. I felt like I was seeing it through new eyes. I felt like I was seeing the Paris I'd been looking for all along. The light hit the buildings just right, people were in a good mood, and I felt good.
And then I got home. First wierd thing: the bathroom down the hall was locked. So I knocked. No answer. No noise. Had they switched the lock on me? My key wouldn't work. So I went and spoke to a man, who came back up with me with his key. But when we got there the bathroom door was open. "There must've been someone in there," he told me. But why hadn't they said anything?
And then I got a message on my phone. My phone has an incredibly loud and terrifying ringer to it, because I'm deaf at times. The first message said "Are you sleeping?" It was from the painter. I had told him I didn't want to see him today because I wanted to go jogging and have time to myself. And then another message, which made me start shaking: "The ring on your phone is incredibly loud." "What?" I responded. "The ring on your phone. It could scare you." But I was already scared. Where was he? This guy knows where I live because he was painting our elevator, and has already dropped by on two occasions to see what I was up to. "Where are you? Are you here?" I wrote back. "No, I'm at my place, but I hear everything." No fucking way. This guy lives in the next arrondissement. And then "Count to ten and open your window." I don't know if he was trying to be cute or scare the shit out of me. But I was scared. I closed the curtain. I paced. Then I grabbed my keys and went outside to see him standing there.
"How did you hear my ring? Where were you?"
"At my house, but I hear everything."
"No, really. There's no way. How?"
"I just did, because it's your ring."
"How?"
"I was down the stairs a bit..."
"You can't show up like this. I need my private space."
I didn't know how to get him to leave me alone. How to make the message clear. I told him I was dealing with something personal. And no, I didn't want to talk about it. But I couldn't see him, or hang out with him, and I needed to be alone. He wanted me to talk about it. It's personal, I said, I don't want to talk about it.
"Can we see each other in a month?"
"No."
This guy's persistence makes me nervous. I had told him at one point that we could be "friends" because I wanted no romantic involvement with him. But after he showed up twice, I didn't want even that. I didn't like the way I became angry everytime I saw him. I didn't like the way something inside of me just couldn't like him. I like people. This doesn't happen all the time. And although he seems completely harmless, something in me just says no.
He was baffled. I couldn't explain. But I kept a straight serious face, told him to forget me, and went to my room and shut the door. I heard him take the elevator down.
I'm still shaking a little. I don't know what to think.
All I know is someone who intrudes my personal space like this, is not someone I want to know.
And then I got home. First wierd thing: the bathroom down the hall was locked. So I knocked. No answer. No noise. Had they switched the lock on me? My key wouldn't work. So I went and spoke to a man, who came back up with me with his key. But when we got there the bathroom door was open. "There must've been someone in there," he told me. But why hadn't they said anything?
And then I got a message on my phone. My phone has an incredibly loud and terrifying ringer to it, because I'm deaf at times. The first message said "Are you sleeping?" It was from the painter. I had told him I didn't want to see him today because I wanted to go jogging and have time to myself. And then another message, which made me start shaking: "The ring on your phone is incredibly loud." "What?" I responded. "The ring on your phone. It could scare you." But I was already scared. Where was he? This guy knows where I live because he was painting our elevator, and has already dropped by on two occasions to see what I was up to. "Where are you? Are you here?" I wrote back. "No, I'm at my place, but I hear everything." No fucking way. This guy lives in the next arrondissement. And then "Count to ten and open your window." I don't know if he was trying to be cute or scare the shit out of me. But I was scared. I closed the curtain. I paced. Then I grabbed my keys and went outside to see him standing there.
"How did you hear my ring? Where were you?"
"At my house, but I hear everything."
"No, really. There's no way. How?"
"I just did, because it's your ring."
"How?"
"I was down the stairs a bit..."
"You can't show up like this. I need my private space."
I didn't know how to get him to leave me alone. How to make the message clear. I told him I was dealing with something personal. And no, I didn't want to talk about it. But I couldn't see him, or hang out with him, and I needed to be alone. He wanted me to talk about it. It's personal, I said, I don't want to talk about it.
"Can we see each other in a month?"
"No."
This guy's persistence makes me nervous. I had told him at one point that we could be "friends" because I wanted no romantic involvement with him. But after he showed up twice, I didn't want even that. I didn't like the way I became angry everytime I saw him. I didn't like the way something inside of me just couldn't like him. I like people. This doesn't happen all the time. And although he seems completely harmless, something in me just says no.
He was baffled. I couldn't explain. But I kept a straight serious face, told him to forget me, and went to my room and shut the door. I heard him take the elevator down.
I'm still shaking a little. I don't know what to think.
All I know is someone who intrudes my personal space like this, is not someone I want to know.
3 Comments:
Precisely. I'm glad you are trusting your instincts and your natural angry reaction to having someone uninvited in your physical and psychological space.
This elevator painter frightens me.
By now I wonder if you have also enlisted the support of others who can help to dissuade this obsessed painter to get out of your life.
Being stalked is a serious threat. People who stalk are not completely harmless.
Gill,
Please, please, please tell the family you work for about this and ask them what you should do. It would be a good idea to have them in your corner on something like this.
Love,
Kate
GILL GILL GILL
This is so peculiar! I don't know if you follow up on my blog..but man. Okay, first off..your previous post about being on your own..I wrote a similar one about eating breakfast alone..haha. Then, the one about trusting your woman's intuition, holy crapper, my one post titled, "THAT girl" is soooo the same. I can not believe how similar our posts have been. WOW. Okay, so yes, follow your instincts, because I did..and I know we're right.
Loveya,'
Haley
STAY SAFE lovely!
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