I sat there, staring at my computer screen at the face of the man I thought I'd been lusting over for nearly two months. My mind was racing as I tried desperately to come up with the appropriate words to say to him. Do I tell him the whole story, laying out all of the twists and turns, the impossible details, and the labarynth of lies upfront?
Do I send him a teaser, only offering a little bit of information and asking him to contact me for the rest of the story? Do I simply add him as a friend, hope he accepts, and strike up a casual conversation? Should I even TELL him what's going on, but add him as a friend and pray to the gods of internet dating that the face of my former lover is just as perfect as his impersonated counterpart? Perhaps I should just profess my undying love from the get-go and lay it all on the line, crossing my fingers and hoping for the best?
I decided to forego the creepy stalker route for once, afraid the brutal honesty approach was probably NOT the best policy in this case. I wanted Blake to WANT to talk to me, not contact Facebook authorities begging for them to remove the crazy stalker who was sending him links to her Pinterest board full of wedding ideas, dress photos, and ring images. Instead, I decided to be direct, to the point, and all business-like about the whole thing, in order to present myself as a completely sane person...while informing him his identity had been stolen and I fell in love with the fake version of him.
...right.
"Hi Blake- This is, shockingly, the least strange e-mail I've had to send in the last week, but no matter how normal this has become for lately, it's going to be weird for you, so bear with me.
You don't know me, but I have something pretty serious I need to discuss with you. It's nothing you did, but more a case of stolen identity, you being the victim. I feel like this is something you need to be aware of immediately.
Please send me a message when you've read this - I'll explain everything in detail, but it's probably better suited for a phone conversation than an e-mail.
To prove I'm not just spouting randomness for the sake of it, I've attached a few of the pictures that I received, texted to my cell phone, this past weekend. If for some reason this isn't you, by all means ignore this...but I'm willing to bet just about anything that it is.
Please get in touch with me as soon as you can - you can find me here, or feel free to give me a call at xxx.xxx.xxxx.
-Kayleigh"
I was nervous to hit "send", rereading my own words a dozen times, tweaking them just so, and praying what had become my day-to-day lately would somehow sound believable to this total stranger. I must have started over at least ten times, never sure of how exactly to approach this man. Writing him was so strange - I knew SO much about him, but he had no idea I even existed. It was like in the fifth grade when I wrote a love letter to Lance Bass of NSYNC, outlining my undying adoration for him and praising his musical prowess. I reassured him he was far more attractive than Justin Timberlake, and even though JT was everyone's favorite, I would never stop loving my Lance. Naturally he turned out to be gay, so I should have known this was a bad idea, but nonetheless, I pressed on. Once I was finally satisfied with my first attempt at communication with Blake, I pressed send.
My heart pounded, and I stared at the screen anxiously for the next hour, waiting for the little blue icon to light up at the top of my page, telling me Blake had replied.
Of course, that didn't happen.
It didn't happen, in fact, for more than a week. That week was the worst week of my life. Everyone had moved on from the Tucker scandal...everyone except me. I wasn't done with this, why the hell did everyone else seem to think it was over? The person who should have been the most angry about the situation had no idea it was even happening, but everyone else involved had decided everything was hunky dory again. I still was not okay with the situation. I was not okay with the fact that I'd been so terribly lied to, that the truth was not entirely known to all those involved, and that the man of my dreams WAS IGNORING MY GODDAMN FACEBOOK MESSAGE.
I actually began to harbor anger toward Blake. Why wasn't he responding? I knew he'd read the message, actually. See, when I sent it, I'd also sent a friend request - because I couldn't resist an open opportunity to be creepy, and you know it. The day after I'd sent the message - Sunday - my phone alerted me that he'd accepted the friend request. When I noticed the alert, a few hours had passed. I went to further stalk his Facebook page, and found that we were not, in fact, friends - and I had the option to "add" him again. You know what this means, right? He confirmed my request, THEN DELETED ME. What an asshole! He clearly read the message and:
A) Didn't believe me
B) Didn't give a rat's ass
I chose to believe it was option A because who seriously is okay with their face being all over the internet, I mean really. So, naturally, I sent him another message - you know, just to make sure he knew I meant business.
"Blake- Clearly you've read this and think I'm out of my mind...I don't blame you.
Maybe this will help explain what I'm talking about: http://www.okcupid.com/profile/WilliamsTckr81 The Facebook profile with hundreds of pictures of you, your friends, and your family has been deleted, unfortunately, but this still exists.
I talked to this person, for almost a month, believing I was talking to someone named Tucker Evans. After "Tucker" refused to speak on the phone and always had excuses for why we couldn't meet for dinner or something, I grew suspicious and started digging.
It took about a dozen people a month or so of Google investigations and Facebook stalking, but this weekend I finally figured out who was behind the Tucker story.
Again, there's much more to it than this - down to the recordings I was sent of "Tucker" singing (Gavin DeGraw, David Nail, Marc Broussard...). Apparently this was you...you've got skills, good work! Unfortunately, again, I thought Tucker was singing me to sleep when all along it was someone using your life.
I know who the person using your identity is, and I'm happy to tell you everything. Its someone you know, and they confessed to using all these pieces of a friend's life. I received a confession yesterday, and finally got your first name, after demanding to know whose pictures, songs, and life I thought I knew. A little Facebook searching (the poser confessed that your age and Auburn attendance were true), it was simple to find the person I'd been calling Tucker for months.
Blake I am far from some crazy girl messaging you out of the blue! I've been stressed out over figuring out who was lying to me this whole time for way too long now. Trust me it took a lot of work to get to the bottom of this, and I'm so glad I can finally stop searching for answers. Now that I finally know the truth, I thought you should know as well. If I was being impersonated online, I would absolutely want to be made aware.
I'm so sorry that this is even happening - trust me I wish I'd never seen a picture of you! I just want you to be aware of what's going on, so it will stop. At least three girls that we know of have had relationships of some sort with a man we thought to physically be you...not okay.
I hope to hear from you so we can all put this behind us for good.
-Kayleigh"
Boom.
Problem solved, right?
WRONG.
That asshole STILL never responded. Rude.
I gave up, yet again, tossing in the proverbial towel and again deciding I just wasn't going to get any further. I'd done everything I could do, and short of marching down to Rome, Georgia and showing up on this poor man's doorstep, there was no way I was going to convince him to believe me. The ball was in his court now - if he couldn't look at all the evidence I'd provided him, and believe that I was telling him the truth, there was nothing more I could do.
If he simply didn't care enough to respond to me, then I suppose he deserved to have his face plastered all over the internet. If he couldn't even have the decency to thank me for tipping him off to the damage Hannah was causing his reputation, unbeknownst to him, then screw him, he didn't deserve my undying love and affection anyway.
It wasn't til a week later that my phone chirped a good morning to me, informing me that I had a new Facebook message.
It was Blake.
"Is this real, or is this a scam?"
Oh, honey. It's a scam alright - I got scammed and I got scammed good. But this scam is for real, it's happening, and it's not going away. Sweet sweet southern man...you have no idea just how real this is.
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