Dear readers of this romantic/angst-filled story,

I wanted to create this note to share my personal feelings that I hold dear to me and would never share with anyone but my closest friends. However, because I have no friends (deleted facebook, erased all phone numbers, burned bridges, etc.), I have decided that it would be best to share my story with complete strangers like yourselves on the internet because there is no chance in hell that you will ever be able to identify me in real life. You may flame me, criticize me, call me a pussy, a coward, a miserable wreck that needs help, but I will let you know that I have heard all of those insults and more, and you would not be saying anything new to me. I will admit that I am a coward and that suicide has been thought of more than a handful of times in my life so that I can confirm all of your assumingly negative opinions of me. I just hope that with this author's note I can at least let you all know where I am coming from with writing such a sad story as The Perfect Lie, but if you do feel so inclined to make fun of me, please go ahead. I welcome insults with open arms and embrace the emotional pain as it feels mysteriously good to me when it slows down the pitter patter of my heartbeat to a new low, while I cry myself to sleep during occasional nights.

The inspiration for this story came from a couple of events of my 19-year-old life, one of which has severely troubled me for 3 years while the other has completely soothed and refreshed me emotionally.

You see, a small part of this story is actually nonfictional. Remember when Link recounts the sin of his past? He is blamed a stalker for "making advancements" on a girl that he had a crush on and just found the wrong way to communicate that love to her. That was not just Link in this story, but also…me during my sophomore year of high school.

During high school, I was not too popular among even my own class (even though I was in Cross Country and Track for all of my time there). I had a huge crush on a girl that also was not too popular among the class and I was completely head over heels in love with her because I thought that because we were both in sports and both sort of non-talkative, that maybe she would at least like me too (Don't worry, I am wayyyyyy ahead of this kind of nonsensical kind of thinking now). I noticed all of the signs that BFs and GFs and just plain friends would post on each others' lockers as I would walk around the high school to and from classes and always wished that I could be a part of this. Homecoming dance came, and I spent most of the time just wallowing away in the corner of the floor, not dancing with anyone and wondering why I bothered my poor parents to pay for my dance ticket when I was just wasting it away. I even spent a portion of that night going into a remote room of the school and crying for my loneliness and wishing I could be as smooth as everyone else seemed to be.

Later on, towards the end of the night, I saw the girl that I had the huge crush on. She was not the hottest girl on the school (in fact, most ppl would rather look the other way when they saw that she did not have the desired features such as sexy curves and whatnot), but that only made me love her more. I somehow got the courage to ask her to dance with me and when she placed her hands on my shoulders I felt like I was in another world, you all know the clichés right? "Like time had just stopped" "it was love at first sight" that kind of crap. Well, I danced that one song with this girl and became so in love with her that I wanted to court her.

The rose festival was coming up and I decided to take part in it. What harm could a rose from an unknown secret admirer be? Could it not be like in the movies where there is a secret admirer that secretly stashes roses in the admired's locker? Well, this move was the most awkward and terrible mistake I would ever make in my life for the events to come later on. She received the rose and the message attached to it which went like: "I think you are the most beautiful girl in the world and I had a great time at the dance with you". Now I did not sign my name on the message, but after she received it, I asked her if she would like to go out with me.

She replied, "I'm sorry, but I don't want a boyfriend right now". She acted sort of scared and hoped I would get the hint never to bother her again.

I did and I did not. While I gave up trying to court her, I still glanced at her from time to time and gave her a smile, I thought it wasn't creepy, but I guess it was.

The last day of exams came, and I was called into the Guidance office. When I came into the room to be interrogated by a stern counselor that warned me never to approach this girl again because she was scared that I would come after her and legal action could take place against me, I was so stricken with fear that I had never felt before in my life. I wanted to just die right then and there. I had always tried to follow the rules, get good grades, listen to my teachers and coaches and parents, and hope for the best. But I was not prepared for an accusation that I was a stalker and that I was on thin ice with that girl. I was just so torn apart that (and this is 100 percent true) I would cry for hours almost every single night for the next two years. Sometimes I would write a full page that consisted of me apologizing for whatever I had done to make her think that I was stalking her and just find it in her heart to forgive me. It was during this horrid time that I resorted to staying up late at night to read zelink angst-filled romance fanfiction and sob and sob quietly until I had enough and wanted sleep. The kind of hurt that I put myself through resulted in less hours for sleep, keeping as quiet as a mouse usually, and the sick wanting to emotionally tear myself up each night that still slightly attribute to my personality today. I truly hurt myself, but I developed a kind of fetish for it. Now I'm not some sick masochist bastard that likes putting sharp things in his body or whatever, but I did like to recount the accusation by that damned counselor each night so I could feel the soft thumping of my heart as the tears rolled down my cheeks and wet my pillows.

I had truly put myself through an emotional hell.

This inspired the first chapter of my sad story/very slight autobiography of myself. The painful portions where Link is thinking of his failures in relationships because of being branded a stalker is actually taken straight out of my terrible mistake in life at high school. Him being called a creeper and made fun of was me being called that. His pain IS my pain.

Fast forward to February of this year. I am in college and have made the Dean's List twice, while working a part-time job and having no friends to talk or do things with.

One night, a girl who was driving the public shuttle that transports students off campus and back on decides to talk to me as she picks me up from my car after work. I mean she really talked to me. There truly was no girl like her that I had met. This girl wanted me to come hang out with her and her friends as they went out to eat and drink. I was so surprised at the kind of affection she was showing me, I led myself to once again believe that she at least liked me. After that night, she wanted to spend more time with me and so each night from 8pm until 2 in the morning, she and I would do hw together and finally lie in her bed and snuggle (we weren't naked or anything, we were just tired and decided to slowly talk our life stories to each other before bedtime). There was one particular night where the girl and I were very close to each other, not watching the TV that was on, and the girl was rapidly falling asleep. Finally, she did the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me in my sad, pathetic, depressing excuse for a life.

She rested her head on my head for a long while and dozed off.

I have never had sex. I have never gone on dates. I have never been intimate with a girl. I have never been kissed.

This moment was the most beautiful moment in my life and I knew that I had to make another chapter for this story. I wanted to end this story on a good note now. I felt that maybe I could pretend that the loving Zelda was affectionate enough to cure Link of his emotional pain and soothe him back to his regular self, the Link before the stalker incident.

Most people's fantasies are often sexually-charged and full of more scandalous activities than a porn video, at least that is what my perception is of someone having a fantasy…or that kind of fantasy. However, my fantasy is truly this story. I am the one in need of comfort for my abominations. I want a loving girl to embrace me, slowly rub my back up and down, tell me it will all be ok, and gently caress my aching body. I don't care about the sex anymore. I just wish someone would do this to me, in this world filled with enough selfishness and wickedness to make someone wish the world would burn.

You may call me a crazy psycho in desperate need of psychiatric help. You may criticize me for my stalkerish behavior and call me a creeper. I don't care what you all say about me. My wish is that what I have written helps you understand the kind of pain that I have borne these last three years and know that this story, while also being a nonfictional account of a sad event in my life, is my fiction, my fantasy, my relaxation, my wish.

Thank you all for reading