March 30, 2010 He was always lurking. He would call and talk to the girls mentioning that he was in the Bay Area. Then, we would pass him going down the street. It is a terrifying way to live– constantly on my toes and looking over my shoulder.
I was moving from my tiny apartment to my new condo. I walked down the apartment stairs and into my carport to unlock my double stroller– I tried to fit it into the trunk of my car but it wouldn’t fit. I rolled it back into the carport and drove to the new condo. I was gone for one hour.
Upon my return, I went into the carport and the stroller was gone. I knew immediately that it was him. I knew he had been there.
I called the police and filed a report. They called him- he admitted to taking the stroller. I was gone one hour.
The police told me what they told me every time: We can’t help you. There isn’t a permanent court order. You are still married- it’s a domestic issue.
They can call it a domestic “issue”…I call it lurking…stalking…and living in fear.