Liam the Memory

WORD COUNT: 934

      You know something I wish I could just throw away forever, that I really wouldn't care if I never saw again as long as I live? Memories. Memories of my relationship with this guy, Liam.
         I met him at a coffeehouse in a New York suburb. It was crowded with people, so I asked the first normal looking person I saw to sit at his table, and he let me. I wanted to work on my novel—I'd brought my Macbook—but I hardly got anything done. The guy took one look at the shiny new computer and asked what I needed it for. When I told him I was writing a book, he got really excited and said he was a writer too. He was pretty cute when he was excited, I remember thinking. He had these huge brown eyes and a long but neat haircut. Anyways, he had to go before I even started writing, but he got my number and said he'd call.
         And he did, later that night. We had a few dates, and I learned he'd published a book of poetry and was working on a short story collection. I bought the book and noticed the poems were all about love, but none of them were very romantic. He seemed kind of clingy to me. They were all about how much he loved his girl, how much he hated being apart even for a moment, and his suspicions about what she did when she was away from him. I didn't think anything of it then. I thought that maybe he'd had a bad relationship, or that he was exaggerating his feelings for the sake of the poetry. I actually felt pretty bad for him, not trusting love, and thought I could help, a major miscalculation on my part.
         After a month or so of dating, I starting getting annoyed when he called me too many times. Every ten minutes, the phone would ring, and it was always him. If I silenced the phone, he just called twice as many times. He would even call me during business lunches, to the annoyance of my colleagues. When I told him he needed to stop he started throwing accusations, telling me I was dating my agent and that I didn't care about him. I felt bad, after that, and calmed him down some, but from then on I knew he wasn't right in the head. My agent was old enough to be my father.
         There was no getting rid of him. If I went to Starbucks, he went. If I went for a walk, he went, too. Business meetings? He was outside the door the entire time. I started to hate him. When we got home one night after a lunch with my sister, I snapped at him.
         "You need to leave me alone! You're following me everywhere!"
         "I thought you wanted to be with me." Liam said, looking hurt, but I could hear the resentment in his voice. "If I weren't there you'd be goggling at all the guys in the restaurant!"
         I told him I didn't want to see him anymore, that he had to leave or I'd call the cops. I meant it, too. He was getting too clingy, too stalkerish, almost, for my tastes. He apologized like mad, saying he wanted to move in with me, that he'd stop being so protective, but I didn't buy it. Moving in would just make me closer to him, and I didn't want that.
         The next day, though, when I went back home, he was there again. I told him to leave, but he wouldn't. He cried. He begged me to take him back. Liam wouldn't leave even after I threatened to call the police if he didn't. He didn't, though, and I felt bad enough that I couldn't call the cops. He was sobbing his eyes out on my beat up sofa. So I just left and went to my mother's apartment a few blocks away.
         I don't know how he found out where I was, or how he even knew where my mother lived, but sure enough he was there the next morning. My mom wouldn't let him inside, and pretended like I wasn't there, arguing with him for about half an hour. He was angry, and he knew I was there. Before he left he shouted that I was a lying jerk, and he had a few choice words for my mother, too. After he finally left, she came up to the guest bedroom I was sleeping in, sat on the bed, and told me I needed to get a restraining order right away. I did, and I moved my apartment, too, just to be on the safe side.
I never heard from him again, but I hardly ever stop thinking about him. He confused me so much. I really did like him when he wasn't being so possessive, and he had a lot of talent. I just bought his new books of short stories that he was working on when we were dating. There was one about me. I really hurt him. I wouldn't go back to him for anything in the world, but I still wish that he didn't suffer so much from our time together. He believed everything he said about me. He really did think that I loved ever man I came into contact with, and that I abused him emotionally. 
Liam is a lot like my memories of him. You love them, you see them everywhere, and there's no getting rid of them.