The Jay Gatsby Guide To Being A Stalker
If I told you I bought a house across the lake from yours so I could stand on my rooftop and gaze longingly into the direction of your general location, would you love me?
If I told you I bought that massive house, complete with service staff and more amenities than a warehouse full of amenities, solely for the purpose of impressing you—if you even remember who I am—would you love me?
If I told you I threw lavish multi-million dollar parties every week at said massive house solely in the hopes that you would, one day, show up, would you love me?
If I told you that I was standing behind a bush outside your house, waiting for you to run out the front door shouting my name and leaving your husband behind, would you love me?
If I told you that I’m nice to your cousin, Nick, who thinks I’m creepy because he saw me hiding behind that bush in front of your house, and that I take him for boat rides, would you love me?
If I told you that you could run over someone in a car and, because I’m so obsessed with you, that I’d help you cover it up, would you love me?
If I told you that everything I’ve done since we last met five years ago—that’s 1,825 days by the way, but hopefully you’re not counting—was a premeditated act to get you to notice me, would you love me?
So what do you say, Daisy? Will you just freaking love me?
How much is a “yes” from you worth, my dear?