My ex-boyfriend stalks me...

My ex-boyfriend stalks me…
because I'm so good in bed!



Rebecca and Ali couldn't keep their hands off each other- but then they moved in together and she discovered the truth about his age and past relationships…

Lazily turning in my bed, I opened my eyes to discover the wreck my friends had left behind. Empty bottles of wine, broken glasses and spilt wine were on display from the front door to the toilet. Lucky for me, I had pulled a guy the night before. I couldn't remember what his name was, but it didn't matter. I'd get him to help tidy up, then kick him out. As a 22-yr-old student, I was always throwing house parties, going out clubbing with friends and getting wrecked at gigs with my sister. When it came to men I was a late starter; I have never had a serious relationship either, I found it easier to have a series of short lived flings, nothing ever serious. But I was happy with my relatively normal life.

Then I met Ali, during my second year at university. We were just mates and we would often go to local pubs with his friends. I was not initially attracted to him. I just thought of him as a shy but very intelligent guy- how many people do you know who study maths and aerospace engineering? Little did I know that my normal life, was about to be shaken and stirred.
During our first year of friendship, he used to leave flowers, notes and chocolates outside my door, signed anonymously. I knew it was him as I recognized his handwriting- but I didn't tell him, I thought it was rather sweet.

It began when we were out together and Ali would always complain when I spoke to other men he did not know, even if we were at the chippies. I didn't understand why he always felt so threatened by my friends. He knew that I was not the type of girl to commit to a relationship; nevertheless, Ali often flirted with me.
I consider myself a reserved but sexual predator although I enjoy sex I am uncomfortable with the idea of settling down at such a young age. I know it's bad but I don't take relationships or men seriously.

After months of Ali courting me, I got tired of the chase. What's the worst that can happen? I thought. It was just one date. However, I was still sexually involved with another man at this point. So on Valentine's Day 2006, I accepted his invitation for a dinner date; it was incredibly romantic. Afterwards, I took him to my place, we made love and then I sent him home- as usual. It was just one date, I hadn't decided if I really liked him but I liked the thought of casual sex with him. A few weeks later I realised that he had told all his friends we were a serious couple. I just went along with the suggestion. I got so used to him and the idea of a serious relationship, that I stopped seeing other guys. I decided to commit.

A few months later, in the summer, we moved in together. That's when I really noticed changes in Ali. I would go to concerts with female friends and he would wait for me outside and escort me home. During the concert he rang my mobile every 10 minutes which was incredibly frustrating. The first time it happened, I thought it was sweet and we were going to rush home and make love. Instead he questioned me- "How long did the concert last? How many men did you talk to, did you give your number to anyone?" He also insulted my friends insisting, "You can't trust your friends, and they will all turn against you." As the weeks passed we argued constantly.

Two months of living together was a lot tougher than I assumed. I often thought of breaking up with him but he was really sweet and he was great in bed.
I met two female neighbours and things seemed to improve. He slowly opened up, and joined into our conversations. "You can hang around with them. At least I know where they live if I don't know where you are," he said. I was just happy that I had friends he liked.

Our sex life took off and we became more adventurous in bed. On his 22nd birthday I bought him a technical drawing board. As an engineer, I knew this expensive present would mean a lot to him. He showed his gratitude in bed that night and confessed I was the best sex he had ever had. Laying in each others arms, I realised I couldn't say the same back to him. I thought of all my previous lovers- Ali was much less experienced compared to me: I introduced him to the woman-on-top position. That's how pathetic he was, until I perfected his technique.
One morning we awoke to find his bike had been smashed up. "It's probably some drunk young students who thought it would be funny," I said to console him, but he snapped back. "I bet it's those girlfriends of yours. You guys have all teamed up against me- women can't be trusted!"
I tried to reason with him, "I am sure they did not even know you owned a bike, why would they do that? Think logically." He refused, muttering and swearing under his breath. Over the next few days he became distant and hostile towards me, my friends and my sister.

Matters worsened; he was already jobless and refused to seek work. His parents live abroad and send him money each month for his rent and living expenses. Unknown to me, they disapproved of our relationship, they stopped sending money. I was burdened with paying both our shares of the rent, providing and cooking food, as well as concentrating on my final year of studies.
I encouraged him to work but he was too stubborn. I could not afford to pay rent for the both of us any longer. I even asked my mother to lend me some money. She encouraged me to contact his family and find out what the problem was and why they wouldn't send him money- His family disowned his problems. I was stuck.

I gaped in sorrow and confusion. How am I going to get my £2000 back? I wondered. The next day, Ali arrived from University in a bad mood and demanded £20 from me to cigarettes and a few pints of beer. I had exceeded my overdraft limit and had to watch every penny. He sulked when I refused to give him money, then snapped at me, "Why not?" He shouted storming towards me. He grabbed me really hard and pinned me to the wall I trembled with fear I had never seen him act so aggressively. "I am going to call the police." I spluttered. But he just squeezed my wrists harder and shouted abuse at my face. I wept and finally he released me.

Later that evening as I was recovering from the shock of his behaviour, I realised how much I had changed for this man and how unhappy I was. The old Rebecca was carefree, emotionally and financially secure. I craved an independent life again.

I gathered up all my courage and confronted him. "Get out of my house right now. I do not care where you go just leave!" I screamed over and over again and threw his favourite clothes out on the road- this was the only way to get him to leave the house. He underestimated my rage.

"You can't live without me!" he shouted from the street. After hours of banging and begging through the door, he realised I was never going to let him in. I had to stay strong and I told him, "You are a man, you have family and friends and I refuse to mother you. You need to grow up, get a job and start taking care of your responsibilities. You are like an overgrown child; I have to treat you like this and I hope you understand it is for your own good." Speaking through the wooden door, I heard him curse and walk away. I was scared and distraught so I spent the night at my neighbour's house.

The next day he would not stop ringing my phone, he wanted me to give him money so he could go to his aunt's house. I texted back – 'You are not my responsibility anymore, walk there if you have to.' I did not like being so harsh towards him. His family and friends began to contact me, after I stopped responding to his calls, texts and emails. But they did not offer to compensate the money he owes. Nevertheless, I agreed to allow him one month to collect his belongings or I would throw them all away. He did not.

I was sitting in my house with my sister mulling over my bills when his friend Mustafa called me and matters worsened. "I am so broke right now", I complained "and I have all his belonging here cluttering the house and bringing back painful memories." I told him I was going to sell the board I had bought Ali to get extra cash. Then Mustafa slipped- "Oh yeah, it was his 30th birthday a few months ago, I can't believe how unsettled and immature he is." I was dumbfounded- he was 30! He had lied that he was 22, a year younger than I.

The phone call from his friend encouraged me to find proof, I looked through his passport and my doubts were confirmed, he really was 30 years old. It was very hard to believe I did not know this man at all. His parents informed me only days later that he was still in contact with his 3 year old daughter in England who he was still in contact with. The less I saw him the more I found out about him. I began to doubt myself and my judgment. Was everything he said a lie? I was so stressed I could not focus on my studies; I endured sleepless, tearful nights, wondering where I went wrong.

Five months on and the situation has not improved. He has since visited my house three times with the police threatening to sue me for the theft of his belongings. Strangely, a few weeks later on Valentine's Day, he also left my favourite flowers on my doorstep with a lengthy letter proclaiming his undying love for me; which I forwarded to the police. He is not completely out of my life I still see him at University but we never exchange words or glances. The police are now involved and I am trying to get an injunction against him, so when I graduate in May he will have no excuse to contact me. I realise he is my very bad mistake. But I have learnt. It will take a long time for me to ever trust a man and have another serious relationship. My life was better when I was not tied down to one partner.

My friends and family have always supported me and let me live my life. I cannot imagine what life would be like, if I decided to stay with him. I hope he has learnt that life is not a free ride and he provides for his daughter. I only wished I had realised the truth sooner.

Ali says: I still love Rebecca. She will always be my gem. I'm sorry for lying.