Stalked by a former friend for six years

My junior year of high school I had gotten particularly close to a new student in town. He was two years younger than me and kept to himself, but was still friendly and willing to participate in class, which made him stand out in a sea of apathetic teenagers. I took him under my wing and taught him around the school, and then the town, and introduced him to my friends. I was getting ready to graduate and not feeling too attached to any of the friendships I had at the time so I started to invest more time in him.<br><br>He was still pretty shy, but I could go to him for advice when I didn't know who else to go to and knew he would be honest but not harsh. He was very smart and I could tell he was going to go far in life so I didn't worry too much about him being 15. I was curious but I wasn't going to act on it. I stuck around for a year after graduating to attend the local college, and the whole time he and I were inseparable.<br><br>Once I moved away, to about an hour and a half away, we would text frequently. I figured he would stop after I moved, but he didn't. He would still text me about advice, and I would show him around the new city I was in. He would always say how proud of me he was and how he wished he could be there for me. I liked the attention, but I didn't want him to get it in his head that I was doing anything for him. I tried to steer the conversation back to his own life. He was the top of his class, and being recruited for rowing scholarships.<br><br>Sometimes he would show up on campus, saying he was in the area. I would go to hang out with him and realized that he had a copy of my schedule. I didn't know he had it. We would meet up for coffee, and he started inviting his friends from high school up to meet me. I didn't want to be a big deal to him, but I could tell that I was. One day he asked me out, and I was shocked. He wasn't 18 yet, and the age difference wasn't super weird, but it still wasn't something I was comfortable with. I told him I was flattered, and that I would always care about him, but the age difference was too much. He just told me he would wait for me, and that he loved me. I knew I had to set some space.<br><br>A few days later I came home from class to find my door open and him cooking in the kitchen. He said he needed to talk to me and that he had driven up all morning. I decided I would hear him out and politely tell him to leave. As he was cooking he said he had figured out the code to my door because he had stayed in my apartment before when I was in town. I tried to get mad, but the fact that my friends had also figured out the code didn't help my case. He sat me down at the table and told me that he had been accepted to a university in the area, and that he had received a rowing scholarship. He said that it was purely because of me that he was able to do it. It wasn't. He was on the honor roll and did everything right. I thanked him and told him I was happy for him. He asked me to tell him that we could be together, and I told him no.<br><br>He didn't leave. He stayed at my apartment for a few days, saying he didn't have anywhere else to go. I didn't tell my roommates because I knew they would tell me to kick him out. He slept on my couch and I slept in my bedroom, locking the door. I didn't go to class for a week, calling in sick, because I didn't want to leave him alone in my apartment. Three days into him staying, I was starting to feel crazy. He was right, I didn't have a good reason for him to leave. When he offered to make dinner, I said yes, and when he offered to clean up afterwards, I agreed. When he said it was late and he should stay, I didn't fight it.<br><br>After he left, I started to feel better. I thought maybe he had gotten it out of his system, and would move on. He never stopped texting me. I stopped answering. I stopped going home on weekends because I didn't know if he would show up at my parents' house. I stopped going to parties because I didn't know if he would show up. I started answering again because he got angry at me for not responding. He showed up at the hospital I was volunteering in and I was told I couldn't work there anymore. My roommates started to notice strange things missing and I think they were starting to suspect me.<br><br>I moved back in with my parents after I graduated and stopped answering my phone. I stopped going out, and stopped seeing my friends. I couldn't stay in the town because I knew he was in it somewhere. I didn't know where he lived, because he never told me, but I could never stay in one place too long.<br><br>I moved to the city and got a new phone number. I still had to delete his texts because I would get them from unknown numbers. My mom said he would stop by the house occasionally and ask for me. I stopped talking to my friends from high school because I didn't want word to get back to him. I didn't date because I never wanted to be in a situation where I had to tell someone about it. He would sometimes call me and tell me he missed me. I stopped going home.<br><br>I finally decided to change my number. Three years ago my mom tried to get ahold of me because my dad was sick, but that my number was disconnected. I had a voicemail from him, telling me he missed me but understood why I wasn't talking to him, because he was too embarrassed to call. I called him, and he said he knew I was mad and he didn't want to disturb me. I told him I wasn't mad, I was just busy.<br><br>He said there was something important he needed to tell me in person. I told him I didn't know how I would be able to make it back but I would try. He said that he knew exactly where I was and how long it would take me to get to him if I left right now. I hung up the phone.<br><br>I am married now and I don't know what to do. I am afraid to go back to my hometown. I hope he has moved on, but I'm not going to take that chance. I live in a city and work in one, so every time I see a familiar face it makes me jump. I don't know how he found out where I live but I know he will contact me. I don't know what he wants, I just know it can't be good.<br><br>&#x200B;<br><br>Edit: I feel like I need to clear up a few things. He never told me to stay in the apartment. At the time I was confused and blaming myself for letting him stay there without telling my roommates. Looking back I know it's not my fault, but the guilt can still be overwhelming.<br><br>I didn't call the police because at the time I didn't see anything illegal. Looking back it is so clear how inappropriate his behavior was, but at the time I was confused. I convinced myself it was my fault for being "so nice" to him. <br><br>The text messages are always short, and mostly say something like "I hope you're doing well". I've never replied, but I have kept the texts. I may save them and bring them to the police as evidence if I feel safe doing so. <br><br>I know there's a big contrast between me being afraid of him and him never being mean to me. I should have said no when he wanted to stay with me. I should have told him he couldn't text me anymore. I should have told him to leave when he made dinner for me. I didn't. I don't want to have to do it again. <br><br>This all happened a long time ago. I'm trying to move on now.