Go away. You’ve had your fun so stop ruining my life. Stop slipping things under my door. I don’t want A cd with 18 tracks of “Every breath you take” burned on it. I get it. You’re a fucking creep and I don’t know how to get rid of you. Stop knocking on my door and trying to attack me before I can get away. I’ve had enough scrapes and scratches and bruises from you and I didn’t need another one tonight. I hope you can’t sleep knowing I can’t fall asleep without have nightmares that you broke into my room or the fact that I walk around always looking for you. You took away my safety and my sanity and a lot of other things that I can’t have back. Fuck you.