Dear Red-Haired Girl in Room 209,
Hey, it’s been a while. We seem to be in a bit of a rough patch, and I thought we should talk. But from a distance, of course. 50 meters or less, right? Haha.
Actually, that’s one of the things that’s been bugging me. Did you know your restraining order expired last week? You probably just forgot. I’m sure that’s all. Except…well, you hardly ever lock your door anymore, and you haven’t changed your alarm codes in over a month. And it’s not like I’ve been super sneaky or anything. I made sure to leave distinct footprints in the carpet last time, so you’d know I’d been around. It feels…I don’t know…sometimes you act like I don’t exist, but not in the good way. It’s more like you see me as a friend, or something. And I know that’s the last thing either of us wants.
Maybe I’m the problem. As time goes by, I find myself thinking of you less as an object, and more as a human being, with thoughts, feelings, and emotions. I’m sorry, I know that’s hard to hear, but believe me, I am trying, I’m really trying to objectify you. It just doesn’t come as naturally as it used to.
I know you probably think I still spy on you from the bushes when you shower (8:30 every evening, on the dot–see, at least I’m still trying)…and believe me, I had every intention of doing so last time, but…well, I got there, and while I was waiting, I realized I could stream the Golden Girls to my phone. I must have watched eight episodes in a row. That Betty White…what a character, am I right?
Oh, listen to me, prattling on and on without giving any thought to how you’re feeling–almost feels like old times, doesn’t it? But just because I feel this way now, doesn’t mean I’ll feel this way a week , or a year from now. And that’s just not fair to you. You deserve someone who can lavish you with the kind of obsessive attention you deserve. There I go, empathizing again. God, I’m such a mess.
I think maybe I need to start seeing other people. Well, watching other people, you know what I mean. And who knows, maybe a few months down the road, you’ll be ready to be creeped out by me again. I hope so, at least.
Until then, I faithfully remain,
Your secret admirer
Your vigilant watcher
Your ardent pursuer
Bob, from Bob’s Hardware and Other Used Goods
P.S. I know, I didn’t scent this letter with your perfume. Honestly, it only feels like a formality at this point, and it doesn’t feel right to just keep going through the motions.