Let’s look at this holiday from the point of view of a stalker. Stalking being the talented art form, completely misunderstood by the masses. What would a stalker do for their love? I suppose first you have to understand whether the stalking is done anonymously. If that is the case a box of chocolates or bouquet of flowers left behind would be locked doors with a secret admirer card is in order. An out in the open stalker should burst into the home of their love and make an explosive statement with pigs blood spelling out their feelings across a tattered t-shirt. In either case the card given ought to include special photoshopped images of the two in a loving embrace. Just once I want to see someone who is being stalked take up their stalker on the offer of love. What would happen? Will we ever know?
Happy Valentine’s Day Pilver readers! Smell flowers, eat chocolates, and re-arrange the photos in that shrine you’ve erected for that special someone not yet in your life.
The Pilver 
KB, a true stalker would go the little bit extra…still buy you the candy and flowers, but you’d find the candy in a drawer amongst your ‘delicates’ and the flowers under the floorboards beneath your bed alongside about a weeks supply of empty Twinkie wrappers, several bottles of “I hope that’s apple juice” and scrawled poetry remarking about how you smell in the moonlight.
Honestly, back in my day, we had to work on our stalking, it wasn’t all Facebook and digital zoom lenses, let me tell you!
See, it’s an art form…and you are the Michelangelo of stalking.
Is that because when I’m rewarded with a glimpse of flesh through a frosted bathroom window I’m heard saying ‘Cowabunga’?
My friends, the hopeless romantics.
I also miss the days when we had to put work into it. I have so many great memories of standing outside windows, completely still and staring straight into the eyes of the one who I knew loved me, whether she knew it or not.
How many bodies I buried of those I viewed as my competition for her affections. I’ve lost count. Yeah, good old middle school. Those were the good old days. I was so sloppy back then. I’ve gotten much better at my work though. Much better.
My stalkers all hate me. They hate me so much they can’t stop thinking about me, and researching my every move, and talking about it derisively when they think I won’t find out…
Love is so sweet.