"I am not a stalker," I say.

My best friend in the entire world looks at me dubiously. I honestly can't blame him. I mean, if he was following someone around and calling her (or him) at strange hours, I'd think he was a stalker too.

I'm totally not, though. Maybe I have a reason for my actions, but no- once they see you take off after a guy down a dark alley- when it happens to be after midnight- people judge. Yo, 'tis not cool man. I'm pretty sure that's how wars start.

"Well, your actions certainly aren't normal, or sane, or anything besides stalkerish, really." I think about Jeremy's statement for a second and try to see his point. All I can come up with is a feeble, "But..."

"No buts, Amy. You have to give it up."

"But Jeremy."

"Stop following me around," he practically roars at me. "It's creeping me out."

Feeling stunned, the back of my eyes pricks with tears. "I'm sorry."

"Fine." Jeremy sounds a bit embarrassed- a pink flush is spreading over his cheeks. "It's just not healthy Ames. Find a new hobby."

Hobby? Riiiiiiiiight.

The large grandfather clock that my mother keeps in the kitchen chimes five. " I have to go," Jeremy tells me, tacking on a "see ya later" as an afterthought.

I stand in the hallway for a moment, resisting the urge growing inside me. My feet, not listening to my protests, pull me forward and I find myself defeated. Unable to help myself, I slink out the door and onto the street. I am not even concerned about the smile that's plastered on my face right now.

Soon, I find myself ducking behind a bush as Jeremy looks over his shoulder. I hear him stop walking. This pattern repeats numerous times on the walk to his house. I jump and hide behind an object and Jeremy stops and stares at the object just wondering if I'm behind it or not. I think he's too scared to find out.

And one of these days, he'll stop being scared. He'll come to check that I'm hiding behind that tree/ lamppost/ garbage box. And when he does, that's when I'll get him.

The waiting is fine though. A few minutes here. A few minutes there. For him, I'd wait forever.

Because isn't that what true love is? Forever.

And ever.

And ever.