I Really Shouldn't Be a Diplomat

"I must acknowledge, once and for all, that the purpose of diplomacy is to prolong a crisis." - Mister Spock

In high school, I would often mediate between my more neurotic friends. But when push came to verbal assaults and double-crossing adolescent boys, I lost my knack for diplomacy.

This has most recently been confirmed when i dealt with an over-zealous—stalker—young man who became way to attatched for only knowing me a matter of days. I thwarted advances and called him on his stalker-like behavior. I even familiarized myself with Castle Doctrine and House Bill 228, recently passed in Montana. The following section specifically interests me.

"Section 1. No duty to summon help or flee. Except as provided in 45-3-105, a person who is lawfully in a place or location and who is threatened with bodily injury or loss of life has no duty to retreat from a threat or summon law enforcement assistance prior to using force. The provisions of this section apply to a person offering evidence of justifiable use of force under 45-3-102, 45-3-103, or 45-3-104."

Unlike my baby-sitter homer state, Minnesota, I can actually defend myself in my dwelling structure. I don't even have to announce to any perpetrator/trespasser that they are about to be clubbed—literally—with a 5 iron.

Not retreating is something I'm pretty good at. I told off that guy a few times, despite his alleged connections and obvious mental maladies. I went on one of those anti-stalker websites and they all said to deal with them gently. I did at first, but he didn't get the point. So I went to my penchant for directness. As well as some oddly tactful excuses for not having contact. I should not be a diplomat

Even after being abnormally civil, despite my directness, the guy deleted AND blocked me on facebook. Now, this was either to 1. get my attention, congrats you did. Or 2. I'm about to be whacked. Or 3. it was too emotional for him to still be friends after my rejection, which wasn't really rejection because we didn't even know each other.

I've been a little bit on edge—ever vigilant, never fearful.