I didn't ask for Romeo and Juliet . . .

Growing up in a "smaller" town, it wasn't uncustomary for an individual to stop by the house without calling first. A great deal of the time the visitors were asking for money, wanting to spread some religious information, or little children asking if they could play with our dogs. The point is, in a place like Middle-Earth, those types of "drop-ins" weren't really a big deal. Having moved to the star city of Middle-Earth, things are a bit different. Now, my idea of a home is that it's safe . . . it's your own, and you as the owner/renter, reserve the right to shut yourself away from the world. Apparently I'm wrong.

Alright, so I'm a little OCD when it comes to my apartment, but I welcome my friends coming over, especially when we need a little space to watch movies, drink tea and coffee, and escape. I love my apartment . . . it's small, but decorated with every aspect of my personality. The point is . . . it's MY space, and if I invite people into it then that's saying a lot. I've never been one to host a group of friends, mainly because of the size, but instead I've had a few friends stop over for smaller gatherings. Needless to say, inviting someone over means I trust them and I want them in my space, because my living area is extremely personal to me. It's an escape.

So, to the point of the story. Lately I've been talking to a guy who randomly stops over. Now, the first time I didn't mind as much because I was studying for a test and he brought me food. I suppose one could consider this to be a nice gesture . . . even though I had made it very clear that I was shutting myself away to concentrate on this test. The other few times have been to say hello . . . still, once I have already stated that I was busy, running around the house to get ready and leave etc. It's a bit much but I let it slide because sometimes I wonder if I'm just being overly analytical about the whole situation.

THEN, there was yesterday. I spent a good eight hours with my friends at their home. It was a day of doing absolutely nothing and it was amazing. This guy calls me later that evening and I let him know that I'll more than likely be spending the rest of my evening with my friends but that I would let him know. So . . . when I head home much later that evening/morning, I let him know that I'm just going to go home and turn in and I'll see him tomorrow. Goodnight, see ya later, bye bye, sweet dreams, catch ya on the flip side.

No . . . I'm washing my face, playing my radio (a little too loudly for the time of night/morning), when my cellphone rings. It's him. I want to go to bed so I ignore the call, thinking to myself "Whoa, what if he's here." He calls again. And again. He leaves a voicemail. He texts me. "Open your front door." I'm tired and I'm irritated by the fact that I have just recently told him that I was exhausted and going to bed. Also, I had earlier said that I didn't want to hang out at my place . . . and that I just wanted to be with my friends and go home and crash. I'm irritated, but I shut off my bathroom light and radio, hoping he'll think I'm asleep and leave. NO. He proceeds to climb the balconies up to mine. The third story. I pay extra for living higher up for a reason . . . safety! Well, I'm happy to know that someone can get up here if needed. I hear a knock at the sliding glass door. "Kendall, I know you're home. Let me in." I just sit on the bathroom floor in shock. I think about calling my friend Derek to come over, as I had just left his home and he lives close by . . . but I'm afraid he'll be able to hear me talk on the phone. I turn my phone on silent and eventually text him back and say. "My sister is staying there tonight with her boyfriend. Derek followed me home and took me back to their house." I can hear from the bathroom "Oh, shit." Texting followed, he eventually got back down and I told him my phone was going to die so that I could just avoid the situation.

And since waking up . . . I have received three phone calls, a voicemail and a slough of texts. I answered as I was writing this. I mean, he's a great guy, he brought me flowers, just wanted to see me blah blah blah. But my space is MY space. I definitely canceled the dinner plans set in place. I have no idea what to make of this situation. One could see it as romantic. "Kendall, he brought you flowers and wanted to present them to you." No, that's not okay . . . that's an invasion of privacy no matter the intentions. What the heck . . . what the heck! I have no idea what to do here. Part of me really enjoys the time I spend with this guy, though a relationship was never something I wanted out of the situation. Now, I think he's way more into this than I am and I'm not sure, even after the apologies, that I can deal. I don't think I should feel guilt for protecting myself in an awkward situation, but I do. Ugh, confusing times.

Peace Out-

Kendall on the Dark Side