you know i’m stalking you, right?

I am looking through fingerprinted windows at the flickering light blue glow of the tv reflecting through the curtains hanging in your bedroom window. Lately, I find myself here, on this street, parked across from your house singing along to the sappiest songs on my ipod.

I am imaging you here, using this performance to show you that I am sensitive and caring.

I am imaging never-ending status updates proclaiming our love and affection:

“it doesn’t matter if the sun is shining or if it’s raining all day, our love grows in any weather. <3 _______”

“AWWW, I Love you too sugarbear! _________”

7 billion likes 143 million comments

And we’ll become the best boyfriend and girlfriend.

Which are compound words.

Which are two words combined into a singular word that has a new meaning.

Boy/girlfriend.

Boy/girl friend.

Get it?

You are nodding your head, up and down.

Bored.

Because what I’m saying doesn’t make sense and is fucking stupid.

Now, I’m imaging myself remembering all the pimples discovered in the mirror earlier that morning and not being able to relate to people.

Back to reality.

Maybe there is a hidden symbolism contained in the hyphen between the words, self and conscious.

I can’t make it through one sappy song without fucking up the majority of the lyrics and/or straying off key.

Maybe it’s better you’re not here.

Maybe I need more practice, but I think I figured out the tv show you’re watching.

Newly Weds. Right?

I am imaging myself wrapped in a cocoon made out your blankets inhaling the scent of your shampoo, which smells fruity and tropical at the same time.

Immobile.

Staring at your stucco ceiling.

The breeze of the window fan skimming across my face.

Forever.

In Love.

I will never turn into something beautiful.

You know I’m stalking you, right?

Which means, you should probably make that phone call to the police within the next couple of minutes.