I've always been a watcher. A window looker. Don't worry. I swear I'm harmless. Then again, most people will swear that about themselves and all you have to do is turn on the six o'clock news to know that some people are liars.
It's a problem of curiosity. I want to know what you're doing. How you're living. See the ways in which you spend your time. Life, you see, is overpowering in its abundance of experiences. We are, each of us, a universe unto ourselves. I want to leave my world and be a part of yours.
I get stuck in my head. I can't get outside of myself to see what other people are thinking, or feeling. I know that you have thoughts. I know that you do feel. I just can't experience it. Then other times I care too much. I get outside of myself and try to get inside of you, to know you intimately, head and heart.
It is the way you act when you are alone. Do you eat cereal late at night while staring at a blank wall? Do you talk to yourself, argue with yourself, berate yourself for all of your faults both real and imagined? Do you walk around naked?
Oh, to be a fly on your wall.
I can't decide if I need to remind you that I'm harmless a second time. Will it reassure you, or will it make you think I'm trying too hard? You tell me. What are you thinking?
I live in suburbia. I can't say it is the best place for people like me -- and there are many people like me. I can say it does offer some advantages. The residential streets are often dark, with a treasure of concealing shadows. Most people keep their curtains closed or blinds drawn, but not everyone. There are back alleys that run behind houses. People are less likely to close their blinds on the backside of their homes. They think, who would be in the alley late at night. Me.
I've seen you. Yes, I've seen you. Alone. Lonely. I've seen you get dressed on a Friday night like you've someplace to go. I've seen you prop up your courage with alcohol. I've watched you walk to your front door only to hesitate. We both know there's no one out there waiting for you. You have no plans made. I witness your hopes as they slowly fall to the floor like glass from a broken window. I've smiled as you changed out of your weekend best and back into your sweatpants and t-shirt, sit back on the couch with a frown and bathe yourself in the television’s sickly glow.
You don't belong to the outside world. There is no one waiting for you. There is no one waiting for you. There is no one waiting for you. There is no one else waiting for you. Only me.
Ours is a one-sided relationship. I witness you, your actions and inaction, your terrible sameness and your shinning individuality. Have you ever done something and wondered, how many people have done this exact same thing? Is there ever a time when you answer yourself truthfully with no one?
When I want, I can be invisible. You could look right at me and not see me, not know who I am or what I do. You might be near me at this very moment, but you'll never know. You'll never know until I want you to know and that might never happen. Or, it could happen tonight. Who is to say?
Take solace in knowing that you're not special. You're one of a hundred, a thousand. You're just another wall to another fly.
I am a fly.
You are a wall.
You are a galaxy.
I am a watcher.
by D.K. (Alone at Night)
by D.K. (Alone at Night)