I must look absolutely horrible to her now. I am sorry for the things I have done; any mention of my own disabilities leading to me making bad decisions would come off as ableist. I made bad decisions, and they were due to ignorance and anxiety. They are still my bad decisions, even as my intentions were good.
I’m the “stalker” to her. Even though she hates me, it doesn’t change that my feelings have been true all this time. Those feelings don’t change the dynamic between us either. I’m the person who cares way too much, while she’s the person who sees only what I did wrong and lets that define every part of my image. She made the “error” of caring, so now she’ll fight to not give a shit. There are no winners, no losers, no fight. There are only the continuous days of the pained pedestrian and the distant freight train. This is life, and it sucks.