C'mon people, spit out the stories. I knew you folks have some hidden gems of tales to tell. Do share.

I was really into this girl a few years ago and I finally had gotten up the nerve to go and ask her out in front of all of her friends. Apparently I had beaten one of her friends to the punch because when I started chatting her up, he flew into a rage and punched me in the side of the head. I was completely blindsided. I wasn't hurt because the guy was like a chihuahua. What made things worse is he kept attacking me. I wasnt about to put his lights out because he was sooooo TINY. Finally some of his friends restrained him but my thunder was stolen. For the next week or so I tried to go back and talk to her but the dude was always around. Finally when I asked her out, she said yes, but the guy obviously didnt make it easy on me. He called all the time during our outings and even showed up during dinner once and made a scene. I suggested that she should handle this guy at which point she became defensive and an argument started. That was the end of that.

Ifrit, trust me, I was celebrating! Rich is one of my dearest friends and that poem confirmed that for both of us. I just thought that my mother's reaction to the situation was hilarious. :)

gay guys are still guys Sabila. i am pretty sure they dont write poetry for women everyday. but on that merit you should still be flattered that a gay guy wrote you a poem! in any case, i would think having inspired an ode is a rare thing. definitely cause to celebrate.

Crushes go bad everyday or gay men write girls poems everyday?

it happens every day :P

LOL Sadaf. If it's any consolation, the only boy who ever penned a poem for me is gay (and one of my dearest friends). my mom was so thrilled when I waved the poem around to everyone...and then she wasn't when she realized that the boy was gay.

GOLD Sabila...PURE GOLD!

Oh, and then there was little Chucky in the first grade. I had no idea that he liked me until I found a love letter from him in my Social Studies text book. I remember it said something like "I love you. Someday we will be together." Hot stuff for first graders. Of course, I was outraged and marched right up to Miss Karen, letter in hand, demanding that she remprimand the little Don Juan. She just giggled and returned the letter to me. Later that week, I was talking to my friends during recess, when young Chucky raced up to me, dropped a kiss on my cheek, and ran away.
Ah, I wonder where Chucky is now.......

Okay, so there was this kid in college...I don't want to reveal his name, which has become legendary in my circle of friends because he was so freaking weird. I wish I could reveal it though (just because it empitomizes weirdness for me), but privacy must be respected. He happened to be in my first freshman college class ever and from that day forward, he'd follow me after class...I mean literally he'd walk at my heels at first and then he'd try to make conversation as if he'd just run into me. He'd do this everyday we had class together. I'd try to get work done in the library between classes, while this kid sat freakin' next to me at a table designed for one person. My problem is that I'm too nice and can't tell a guy that I'm just not into him. So, this persisted until the semester ended. What does this guy go and do? He starts sending me bizarre emails. He fancied himself a writer, you see, and would send me these disturbing poems and short stories that had images of blood and intestines and lawnchairs as declarative of love (Pablo Neruda he was not). One of my friends ended up taking a class with him and told me that he couldn't stop talking about me DURING class. I was his muse, apparently. So, now I was very sketched out. Finally, the last straw was when he joined the English and Dramatic Literature Organization, of which I was the president. We used to have these great round table conferences; the officers would usually sit at the table, while observers came in and sat on chairs that lined the walls. He used to sit behind me and stroke my coat. All of my friends were like, you need to watch out for him. Then, after the meeting, he'd wait for me by the exit so that he could walk me home. I'd hide out in the ladies' room with a couple of my friends and wait until he left. Honestly, this might've been cute puppy love material if a)he wasn't so sketchy (one had to hear him talk to know what I'm talking about), b)he didn't send me scary love poems and short stories, c) he didn't stalk me and d) he didn't stroke my coat as I presided over meetings. It was all very disturbing. Thankfully, no one's heard from him since graduation.