I am conflicted. I had told myself one thing over and over again for the last four years: I would not, under any circumstance, join the pack of vampire-loving, yellow contact-wearing, and Forks-touring teens in their Twilight pursuits.

And then the New Moon soundtrack happened.

For an hour, I didn’t care how terribly written Stephenie Meyer’s books were, or how I have, more than once, felt the strong urge to vomit all over the “Team Jacob” shirts because, in my heart of hearts, I actually enjoyed it. I sat there listening to some of my favorite artists: Bon Iver, Grizzly Bear, Thom Yorke, and Death Cab for Cutie to name a few. I actually enjoyed myself.

When I finally snapped out of this trance, it struck me that everything had been strategically employed to trap people like myself, the last-standing non-Twilight fans in town. Because, if literature snobs couldn’t be lured in by the actual content itself, it was going to have to be done through other means — by a collection of enjoyable music artists.

But here I am to warn all of you folks. Do not be fooled. Twilight is not your friend, nor is it considered literature — and I fear the day that little boys and little girls will regard Twilight as one of the greatest literary works of our day.

Meyer’s use ­— and misuse — of flowery diction for the sake of flowery diction, redundant word choice, poor character development, and plot that lacks focus are hardly worth praise. If there is one thing that Meyer has mastered though, it is the art of catering to the reader. She offers just the right amount of teenage fluff and the right amount of suspense to keep readers from squirming in their seats.

I knew that something catastrophic was headed my way when scene-high-school girls with 14 different colors in their hair began posing with that book in their pigeon-toed and side-pucker-face MySpace shots. I was right. The Twilight epidemic was on its way.

And from what I’ve observed of the Twilight epidemic is that a large portion of followers feel some degree of shame for liking it — or will pretend to in order to be accepted by their peers. It’s called the “love-hate relationship.”

A friend of mine actually had the nerve to invite me to the Twilight Tour at South Center a couple of weeks ago, to join the mob of screaming youth — mostly girls with the exception of a few creepy balding men — there to see Daniel Cudmore, who plays the vampire Felix, and Charlie Bewley, who plays the vampire Demetri. Needless to say, I declined. And then my friend recited the line that I’ve heard so frequently used among closet Twilight-ers: “Well, I don’t actually like Twilight. My heart says ‘yes,’ and my brain says ‘no.’”

Whether you consider yourself a closet-Twilighter, an OECD carrier — which urbandictionary.com has informed me stands for Obsessive Edward Cullen Disorder — or a Twilight Mom — from twilightmoms.com — the New Moon box-office statistics say it all: a $140.7 million opening weekend. All of these folks have found themselves at the theater for one reason or another.

To the last non-Twilighters standing, do not let the peer pressure get to you. Ignore the obvious traps that have been set up to lure you in — such as good music. I trust that you’ll make the right decision and not join the dark side.

Because if the world doesn’t actually end in 2012, the omnipresence of angsty Hot Topic teens, squealing females and repulsive writing will ensure that it does.

Reach columnist Colin Gorenstein at opinion@dailyuw.com.