This little story actually happened a little while ago, I had to use the "Today" form because of the page's standard, but at least I can tell you how it ends. I moved into the flat when I was barely 19, while the flatmate-stalker (also nicknamed The 28 Years Old Virgin) was seven years older than me. He started to be obsessed with me after we went to the cinema together (the other two flatmates were supposed to come with us but they didn't), and he got convinced we were on a date. I didn't move out because at the time I was quite naive and I was getting together well with everyone else, plus the flat was really close to my uni and relatively cheap, and I thought that he was about to graduate anyway. His parents, for the records, are creepier than him: his dad came to visit once and my roommate caught him opening our wardrobe and going through our clothes, about a month before this episode. After graduation he had to move out because his mum wasn't willing to pay for the rent anymore and found him a job (he wanted to stay a bit longer but fortunately didn't happen), and came to visit unannounced a few times. About one year after he sent me a text out of nowhere (I didn't speak with him for months) saying that it was over and he was sorry if he did something to make me want to break up with him, so I guess that at that point after imagining us dating and getting together I probably left him. I hear he's doing fine and got his first girlfriend.