I’m here. I’m watching you. You may not know it, but I always am. Lurking. Mostly invisible, but definitely lurking. You would be scared if you knew.
I’ve seen everything. Right from the spare pizza keychain in your glove compartment to the mole on your Adam’s apple. I can tell which shoes are your favorite. I’d know the scent of your skin anywhere. It’s hardwired into my system. I know the way your eyes sparkle when you talk about her, I know when your eyebrows would shoot up in the middle of a conversation. I know when you’d clear your throat and when you’d change topics. You’re like clockwork.
I can see you now, even when you’re not around, playing that stupid game you play online and yell profanities at the other dudes. I can tell when you’d pick up the phone to call me and maybe ask me to hang out. Telepathy. We have a connection, I’m not even playing tricks here.
I can tell because no matter what I do, you’d always come back to me. It’s like, you’re drawn to me. Maybe it’s your Stockholm Syndrome kicking in. Or maybe it’s all in my wildest dreams.