My Best Friend Of 15 Years Thinks My Boyfriend Is Her Soulmate. She Crashed His Family Dinner And Refused To Leave. Am I Losing My Best Friend Or My Mind?

Police Intervention

I could see the neighbors’ curtains moving as people watched this scene play out on a quiet Sunday evening. I tried to keep my voice calm and told Jasmine she needed professional help.

She laughed this bitter laugh and said that’s exactly what manipulative people say when they’re losing control. Alex’s dad came outside with his phone in his hand and said he was calling the police.

Jasmine’s whole face changed and she screamed that I was the one who needed help. That my insecurity was so bad I had to invent this whole story about her being obsessed.

She yelled about how I couldn’t handle that Alex might have feelings for someone else, someone better.

More neighbors came outside now, standing in their yards watching. An older man from across the street started walking over asking if everything was all right.

Jasmine turned to him and said her boyfriend’s crazy ex was harassing her. Alex appeared in the doorway looking pale and exhausted.

The neighbor looked confused, asking Alex if he knew what was going on. Two police cars pulled up about 5 minutes later.

Jasmine immediately stopped yelling and wiped her face, switching to this calm rational voice that made my skin crawl because it was so fake. She smiled at the officer and said there had been a misunderstanding, that she came to visit her boyfriend and his parents overreacted.

The officer asked who the boyfriend was and Jasmine pointed at Alex. The officer walked over to Alex and asked directly if this woman was his girlfriend.

Alex said, “No he’d never dated her and she needed to leave.”

The officer asked if Alex wanted her here and Alex said, “Absolutely not.”

Jasmine’s face did this thing where it just crumpled like someone had reached inside and pulled all her bones out. She looked at Alex with these huge wounded eyes and said he didn’t have to lie anymore, that she understood his family was putting pressure on him.

The officer asked Jasmine to come with him to her car. She stood up slowly, staring at Alex the whole time like she was waiting for him to change his mind.

The officer had to physically guide her by the elbow because she kept stopping and turning back. When they got to her car, the officer talked to her for a few minutes while his partner took statements from Alex and his parents.

Jasmine got in her car finally and started the engine. As she drove away, she rolled down her window and screamed that Alex was making a huge mistake.

She yelled that one day he’d realize what he gave up, that he’d come crawling back when he got tired of being controlled. Her voice got quieter as she drove down the street but we could still hear her.

The Realization

Alex’s mom grabbed my hand and squeezed it hard; she was shaking. Inside the house, Alex sat on the couch with his head in his hands.

His whole body was trembling and his parents kept asking what the hell just happened. I sat down next to Alex and started explaining from the beginning.

I told them about the presentation with the social media analysis, about her showing up at his work, about the text claiming I gave permission for them to date. Alex’s mom’s mouth fell open and she kept saying she had no idea that Jasmine seemed so normal when they met her before.

His dad paced around the living room getting angrier as I talked. When I finished, his dad said we needed to talk to a lawyer first thing Monday morning.

He said this wasn’t just weird friend drama anymore; this was stalking and we needed legal protection.

That night, Alex stayed at my apartment because neither of us wanted to be alone. We lay in bed but neither of us could sleep.

Every sound made us both jump; a car door slamming outside had Alex sitting straight up. When my neighbor’s cat knocked over something in the hallway, I was out of bed before I even realized I was moving.

Around 3:00 in the morning, Alex admitted he was scared of what Jasmine might do next. He said every time we set a boundary or told her no, she just became more convinced they had this deep connection.

He talked about how she’d shown up at two different gyms, how she’d told security at his work that she was his girlfriend, how she genuinely seemed to believe her own lies.

I realized we weren’t dealing with a friendship problem anymore. This was a real safety threat and we needed to treat it that way.

Sunday morning, I called my cousin Cordelia who worked in mental health crisis intervention. She answered on the second ring even though it was barely 8.

I explained everything while Alex made coffee in the kitchen, his hands still shaky. Cordelia listened without interrupting and when I finished she was quiet for a minute.

Then she said Jasmine’s behavior matched something called erotomania. She explained it was a delusional disorder where someone believes another person is in love with them even when there’s clear proof they’re not.

She said people with erotomania can be completely normal in other areas of their life but have this one fixed delusion they can’t let go of. I asked if it was dangerous and Cordelia’s voice got serious.

She said it could be, especially when the delusion gets challenged. Cordelia explained that people with erotomania interpret rejections as secret tests or proof of hidden feelings.

She said when Alex told Jasmine he wasn’t interested, Jasmine’s brain twisted that into evidence that he was forced to deny their connection. Every boundary we set, every time we said no, just made her more certain.

Cordelia told us we needed to document absolutely everything from now on: save every text, every voicemail, write down every incident with dates and times. She said we needed to stop all direct communication immediately because any response, even telling her to stop, would feed the delusion.

Most importantly, she said we needed legal protection right away. She used the word restraining order and said, “These situations could turn violent when the person’s delusion got threatened enough.”

I looked at Alex standing in my kitchen doorway holding two mugs of coffee and I saw real fear in his eyes.

Seeking Legal Counsel

Monday morning, Alex’s dad made a call to someone named Lincoln Abernathy before we even finished breakfast. He handed Alex the phone and I watched Alex nod along, his jaw tight, saying “Yes sir and thank you” about six times.

When he hung up, his dad said Lincoln could see us at 10:00 and we should bring everything. I grabbed my laptop and Alex collected his phone while his mom packed the leftover police report and witness statements into a folder.

We drove to Lincoln’s office in the business district downtown, a brick building with his name on a brass plaque by the door. The waiting room had leather chairs and magazines nobody ever reads and a receptionist who smiled too brightly considering why people probably came here.

Lincoln came out exactly at 10:00, a man maybe 50 years old wearing a suit that looked expensive but not flashy. He shook our hands with a firm grip and led us back to his office where he had a yellow legal pad already out on his desk.

We sat across from him and I put my laptop between us while Alex set his phone down. Lincoln asked us to start from the beginning and explain everything.

I opened my laptop and pulled up the first weird text Jasmine sent me about Alex staring at her. Lincoln took notes while I talked, his pen moving fast across the yellow paper.

I showed him the text where Jasmine said I gave her permission to date Alex and Lincoln’s expression got harder. Alex pulled up the messages Jasmine sent him directly asking to meet for coffee and the follow-up texts when he didn’t respond.

Lincoln read them twice, his mouth pressed into a thin line. Then Alex showed him the emails from his office security about the two incidents where they escorted Jasmine out, and Lincoln asked if he could photograph those with his phone.

I found the police report from Sunday dinner on my laptop and turned the screen so Lincoln could read the whole thing. He scrolled through it slowly, occasionally making small sounds in his throat that weren’t quite words.

When he finished reading, he sat back in his chair and looked at both of us with an expression I couldn’t totally read. He said, “We had more than enough evidence for a restraining order, way more than most cases he saw.”

Then he said the word that made my stomach drop: criminal stalking charges.

Lincoln explained that what Jasmine did met the legal definition in multiple ways: the workplace harassment, the residential trespassing, the repeated unwanted contact after being told to stop. He said the process would require me and Alex to testify about specific incidents in detail, dates and times and exactly what happened.

His voice got more serious when he said Jasmine would be formally notified of the restraining order filing and he wanted us prepared that this might trigger another escalation before things got better. He used the word escalation like it was a normal thing to expect.

I realized this was his job, seeing people at their worst and predicting what terrible thing might happen next. We spent the next 3 hours in that office going through every single incident in order.