-Roxy Delgado:
I never meant to be a stalker.
There. I said it. The ugly little word that sounds like something you hide in the dark because it makes you look like a cartoon villain in a cheap movie.
But the truth is softer, twisted, and much more honest: I wanted to know her. I wanted to know everything I could about the woman who kept refusing me with that clipped, clinical voice, the woman who stood in front of me in a white coat and—no matter how many times I teased her—didn't tumble like the rest of them did. I wanted the map of her. The edges. The routes. The corners where she kept her secrets.
You don't just get a person by knocking on the door of her skull and asking for entrance. People don't hand over their private parts like library books: "Here, take chapter six—my childhood, check it out." Especially not doctors.
