Funny How the folk you fall in love with never fancy you...Funny how the ones you don't do

I'll come clean. There were a few people I wanted off my blog list which partially motivated the move. The biggest problem, a boy I made friends with in Bali. His name was Nur and he asked me one evening when I was wandering if he could wander with me. I said he could, but made it clear as was my wont in such a Testosterone sodden environment that if he was looking for romance or any of it's less pink incarnations, I was not his girl.

We chatted, he told me about the personal impact of the Bali Bomb on his life, recounting fabulous stories including his battle to turn the Australian architect who designed the memorial from a man hostile to him personally into a friend. He believed the architect in question possibly due to the nature of his task was frightened of Muslims in Bali. He recounted the numerous failed attempts to strike up conversation as he was at that time living on the street by the memorial site. He told of the time the architect, not recoginising him returned the favour when seeking a light, and how he used that opportunity as an in to question the man's previous unfriendliness before offering his own views on the men who had wreaked the devastation that had claimed one of his closest friends. He told me the story of his life, in bits, warts and all. He had had a tough one, being addicted to heroin as a kid on the street, being part of a gang before getting his act together and returning to school with the proceeds of a mobile cake stall he pushed through the streets of Java.

He had excellent English, had lived in Australia for a while, and had mastered the art of storytelling. I liked him, we swapped stories, he sought me out, I took him for dinner and games of pool. That he had a crush on me was obvious, his numerous confessions to that effect impossible to ignore.

I told him, repeatedly, that it was a one way street and that all was on offer was my friendship.

When I started seeing Ngurah he didn't handle it very well. He tried to find reasons why I should walk away. He at one point claimed Ngurah was a gigilo. Had Ngurah been a more sophisticated lover, or at that point a lover at all (he was sleeping in his jeans to prevent any temptation that would undermine his religion), I may have believed this. I checked with a few of my friends who knew Ngurah well nonetheless and had my intuition wholeheartedly confirmed.

The seeking me out became increasingly problematic for me. Every corner I turned seemed to have Nur waiting at the end of it. When I was twice in one day stopped by different men on bikes asking if my name was Julie and letting me know Nur was asking if anyone had seen me, I began to both understand how he was tracking me down, and get concerned.

I had a series of conversations with Nur where I reiterated that my friendship was all that was on offer and explained his constant companionship was making me feel uncomfortable. He backed off, things seemed to normalise. After a couple of weeks of normality I agreed he could accompany me and the boys on as night out. He got drunk, couldn't cope with seeing Ngurah and I together, behaved very badly. I backed off again. Then he told me he planned to explain our relationship to Ngurah. I told him there was no need, I had already done so, I would prefer he just left things alone. He ignored me, spent three hours with Ngurah when I was elsewhere explaining in detail his love for me, before adding it wasn't reciprocated. Ngurah told him he knew about this. Nur sought me out to tell me he had realised during this conversation that Ngurah in actual fact was not a gigilo!

I told Nur I was not happy with how he was behaving, asked him again to back off. Then two of my friends (both Western customers of Ngurah) told me how Nur had approached them saying he recognised them from photos I had taken, before trailing them to explain his devotion to yours truly.

For me this was a final straw, I had had enough and the fact both friends had warned me that they thought he was seriously obsessed had done little to calm my own fears. I told Nur, no more, leave me alone. He didn't. Turning up at my hotel, trying to hug me, bringing gifts, sending me emails. I embarked on a pretty uncomfortable campaign of pretending he wasn't there, explaining just once that I had asked him to leave me alone and was therefore engaging no further. I felt terrible doing it, and uncomfortable every time he was sat in a bar Ngurah and I were in, in my hotel lobby, or the plethora of other haunts I frequented.

I was getting seriously scared by his persistence and concerned about his mental health. I was beginning to feel that this man would be a serious threat to my safety if I returned to Bali. Yesterday he emailed me for the third time via my weblog. I had stupidly given him the link during the early stages of friendship as my original date to depart Bali approached.

I am not sure if it was the proclaiming I was planning to date that sparked the latest email in which he told me he loved me, would always love me.

Every time I think of him the (non gender specific modified) Blur lyrics titling this post ring round my head. Only it doesn't seem that funny.