Remember when I told you that I dated "the boy next door" but it was really the man across the street?
We met because we lived across the street from each other (duh). Being neighborly eventually turned into going out for dinner. Which turned into dating. Which turned into one of us doing the "walk of shame" every morning across Park Street.
I think we confused the hell out of most of our neighbors for a few months.
Obviously (and I say obviously because I married someone else), the relationship ended. I wouldn't say it was an easy ending, even though we both knew it was time.
I don't really let go very well. It's definitely not one of my better qualities, especially in a situation like this.
For the most part it was not a nasty breakup, and over time we managed to form a rather nice friendship. In fact, he and his now wife came to my wedding.
But for a while there right after the breakup, the crazy in me reared its ugly head. And I obsessively monitored his comings and goings when I was home. From my bedroom window I could see his driveway and front walk into his house. And I knew the sound of his car so if my bedroom window was open, I knew when he came home. (And if he's reading this, because I told him about my blog a while ago - ummm, Hi ex-boyfriend, you did know I was checking up on you right?)
I may have even spent some time with the lights off in my house watching through my bedroom window with my best friend. That is what best friends are for, right? To help you in your crazy time of need?
It was definitely obsessive, and probably bordered on the line of stalker-ish. But I promise, I never followed him! I'm far too lazy to go to that much work.
Eventually he started dating, and then I started dating, and then I met Rich and within a few months Rich and i were engaged and I moved to Philly.
And that is about as much as I can relate to Alice, the main character in our current From Left to Write book club selection Following Polly by Karen Bergreen.
Well, at least as much as I'm going to admit to in writing or to anyone other than my therapist.
About the book:Would you call Alice Teakle a stalker? Or just someone with an, um, healthy obsession with golden girl Polly Linley Dawson? No one much notices Alice: not her boss, not the neighbors, not even her Mother.
Besides, everyone follows Polly: her business selling high-end lingerie you can imagine only her elegant self wearing, her all-over-the-social-pages marriage to movie director Humphrey Dawson, her chic looks, her wardrobe. Alice just follows her a little more….closely.
And when she loses her job and starts to follow Polly Dawson one Manhattan autumn afternoon, Alice stumbles on the object of her attention sprawled dead on the floor of a boutique. Alice is forced to become truly beneath anyone’s notice. Invisible, in fact. Because she’s accused of murder.
But can another obsession help save Alice with the fallout? Charlie is Alice’s longtime unattainable crush. He might be able to help her out of the mess she’s in…in return for a favor or two, that is. And how will Alice find out if Charlie is really the man Alice thinks he is?
This is an inspired post written for the "From Left to Write" Book Club. A copy of Following Polly was provided to me by the publishers. I am not being compensated for this post and all opinions are my own.