I have a fan club.
There are a handful of girls out there, that like to keep up with my life. I won’t afford them the credit of calling them women, as a key component of womanhood – MATURITY- is severely lacking in them. (Even though they are in their mid to late twenties). Labeling it as an interest in me, would be putting it mildly. They obsess over me… over things that I do, places I go, the company I keep.
They refer to me as “She who must not be named”… yet all they do is talk about me, bitch about me, and try to imitate everything that I do. I think it is hilarious that I am apparently Voldemort to this crowd.
If you asked them, I imagine they would say that they “hate” me. So, I suppose it’s an “I hate, club”. But really, doesn’t that amount to the same thing?
It isn’t my fault that I have things that they want. (who and what that precisely entails, isn’t important). I have travelled to places they want to go, and lived in cities they want to live in. I have worked very hard for what I have accomplished in life. And it seems to drive them crazy. It’s nothing more than jealously, turned bitter. I honestly feel pity for them. I can’t imagine being insanely jealous of someone, the way they are of me. It boggles.
Who are these people, you may ask? It doesn’t matter. Some of you may be aware of the situation, but ultimately it isn’t important who they are. They are of no consequence to me. I don’t hate them. I don’t believe that you can hate someone who you don’t care about, and never did. I don’t keep up with their lives, nor do I care what they do. I don’t even have a mild curiosity, and I’m a very curious person by nature.
What is a shame, is that once upon a time, I was looking forward to adding new friends from my partner’s life, into mine. That certainly didn’t happen with this crowd. I knew the first time I met the “leader/instigator” of this group, that great friends we would not be. Though obviously, at that time I had no idea to what extremes she would end up going to, to try to oust me from my partner’s life. As for the others… they are her sheep. She just warps, warps, warps… and they follow, follow, follow… Baaa.
Nothing in my life is done with them in mind. I refuse to play their games or stoop to their level. (Someone who claims to have no interest in us, certainly jumped at the chance to start-up a friendship, again, earlier this year. Albeit a secret friendship. I doubt she even told her cronies, for they wouldn’t have been happy about it. This was an experiment, done at a point when her stalking hit a ridiculous level; and it was just as we assumed it would be). After that, we all saw them for the what they truly are… even more so than before. Again, it boggles.
The instigator – I feel sorry for her. (And I can’t help but think that there are definitely issues of mental instability there). She has shown herself to be a miserable, hateful, delusional person who can’t move on with her life. Nearing 30, she supplements her life with all sorts of drugs and alcohol, just to cope with her “schoolwork” (no grown up job here, as she seems destined to be one of those lifetime students, mooching off financial aid well beyond a reasonable time to do so) and her boyfriend. She really is the most unhappy, and self-involved person I have ever met. There are people in this world who genuinely have things to be devastated by. My existence shouldn’t be one of those things, to anyone. But to her, it is! I pity her. She has kept herself in a stunted adolescence, and doesn’t seem to have a clue about the real world that most of us live in.
This whole mess hasn’t been a part of our life for over two years now. But for them, I don’t think it ever ended. Here they all are… Reading my blogs, looking at my Flickr site, stalking my social networking sites… sad, sad, sad.
The bottom line is… I’m fine with it. I decided long ago, to take their obsession as a compliment. (Who needs the drama? I left high school a looooong time ago).
So to that crowd, feel free… gossip, stalk, snoop on my photos, my blogs, my social networking sites… I don’t care. What you will see is my life. My real life. My full, happy, joyful life with my partner, friends and family. To the rest of you, thanks for letting me get this off my chest.
I live my life for me, the way I always have. Join me, won’t you?
Pass the lotion, because we washed our hands of this a long time ago!