I know her. She doesn’t know me. She saw that article of her, I watched her read it. Then when she fell asleep I couldn’t help but to gaze at her unconscious body. I go to her school, I go to her house, I go where she goes, and she just doesn’t know it. Has this come to an obsession? I don’t even know anymore. My friends don’t know why I’m gone all the time, and why I never sleep. Sometimes my mother worries about me, but if they knew I wouldn’t be allowed to see her anymore, if she knew she’d be creeped out. I love her in some sick way, I never want to leave her. I probably know her better than her friends and family, after all there’s nothing she can hide from me, not even her near arrest.
It was a bit ballsy putting that information up on the internet, on occasion I‘ll see her get paranoid in the halls or in the classroom. Sometimes when she sleeps I like to wonder what it would feel like to lie beside her, the warmth radiating from her body and the feeling of her soft skin against mine. Does she know I follow her? Would she think I’m a stalker? I don’t think I’m a stalker.
She’s all I think about, day and night. The way her hair falls, and the way she brushes it out of her perfectly shaped face. If I was good at drawing I would probably be able to create a masterpiece of her just from memory. Would she love me the way I love her if we met? Maybe. Will we ever meet? Maybe. I’m already with her constantly.