They say the path to hell is paved with good intentions. But when it comes to stalkers, how does invading my privacy, harassment and threats fall under “good intentions” excused in the name of psychotic “love?”

It’s a terrifying reality, but true: City Girl has a stalker. A City Boy I dated, and dumped, has taken revenge into “Bunny Boiler” style proportions.

Being young and attractive, I can sometimes attract the wrong type of attention from the worst kind of people. So when someone I’ve been dating shows that he is two pills short of a prescription - or simply a loser - I keep it moving. But what happens if he moves with you?

I asked my friend, a kind of psychology whiz, to deconstruct this Freudian nightmare. His analysis went something like this: “the lesser of men fight this feeling of inferiority to women (who symbolically "castrate" their egos) through vengeful behavior, especially narcissists--they're absolutely the worst! As such, it's my belief he'll continue this destructive and hurtful behavior until a true rupture occurs: the complete removal of you from his life and him from yours.”

I’ve looked for hiding places. I’ve even changed my number and my haircut. But unstable City Boys are everywhere. The City of London is a notoriously compressed – and nowadays, clinically depressed - square mile. Try as I may I to hide amidst the foliage at Coq D’Argent, I am inevitably thrust back into reality: this drawn-out financial crisis has taken a serious toll on City bankers’ mental health.

The City’s mad enough right now without freaky, stalky men. More complicated than the manic-depressives or schizophrenics creeping among the City’s banks, stalkers are motivated by a variety of things: control, jealousy, or plain obsession. My now-famous predecessor “City Boy” claims to have encountered his own kind of stalker, a girl who fell head over heels for the millionaire right after his “unmasking.” Indeed, they say you’re nobody until you have a stalker. And if that’s the case, I guess I’ve made it.

I think I’d rather be a nobody.