I watched you crawl into bed last night (the way you fold your feet under the blanket would be cute if you weren’t so human). You rolled to your side as you always do with a hand tucked under your pillow and sighed. Your breathing slowed as you lay and let your mind wander, explicit fantasies, mostly, and after ten minutes or so you drifted to sleep. And I watched you dream.
There’s a sadistic element to the power I have over you, I admit it. I let my fingertips stroke your hair, just so ever gently that you would not feel it. A little extra pressure, a little flick and I’d have you up all night fitfully staring into the dark, wondering why you felt such apprehension. Yet, in the back of your mind, knowing exactly why.
I know you. I know what you are and what you’ve done.
I have followed you to work. I have surveilled your movements. I have listened to your whispered conversations and read your emails and texts; seen you when no one has. I know where you’ve gone and what you’ve done there and who you’ve done it with. Or done it to. I’ve listened to the way you talk to people. I know how you tip. I know what you buy. I know your favorite toothpaste and deodorant and shampoo. I’ve inventoried the contents of your refrigerator and your pantry. I’ve seen what you’ve hidden in the corners of your garage. I know how much you drink and what drugs you take. I know how you’ve organized your wardrobe and your clothes drawers and which underwear is your favorite for those occasion you may be revealing such, and I am watching as you do, just as I am watching when you slide the soap across your body when you shower. And I may come at you with any of it, any time I want.
I’ve given up just enough that you sense that I am there, even if you don’t quite know that I am there or what to do about it. Every move you make just gives me more power, so every move you make brings even more anxiety. You are consumed by an ever-increasing feeling of having no control over your life, and, indeed, you don’t. I hold all the control. You can’t tell anybody; certainly can’t confide in anybody. No counselor can help you. No agent of God can save you. You can’t call the police because it would only lead them to … you.
Tonight … tonight I let you dream. But you will never be rid of me because you can never be rid of yourself.
All my life I have had to learn to do things differently. To see the world differently.