Dearest Reader,
I can't stand the thought of not writing to you, I tried to hold back, I swear.
I locked my pen and ink in the floorboards under the heavy cabinet but my fingers itched to inscribe each new detail I saw in your face.
I'm sorry my love, I must write to you again.
It is more than necessary; it is my purpose.
So, I ripped back the floorboards, to get at the paper and ink down below, barely a days’ worth of dust on their pages.
I must send something more to you, to help you see what you mean to me, to make you realise.
I can't stand the thought of being so far away from you, watching you walk home isn't enough anymore, I can't live only seeing you in the daylight, I must watch you at night too, to describe in avid detail how each strand of your perfect hair must fall so gently on your soft cheeks.
I've moved in next door.
The man who lived their previously seems to have had a serious accident and can no longer stay in his home.
They think it was suicide.
Everyone else refused to buy the house, except me.
Because sweet girl, it was no suicide, the house is most definitely not haunted, nothing that lives so close to your presence could be haunted.
So, I bought it, for half the price.
I was the only bidder.
Now I can watch you from closer than before, I no longer have to stand on the other side of the street as you make your breakfast each morning, hair tousled from your bed.
Now I can watch you from my kitchen window, as you pull your shirt over your head and stare at yourself in the dirty mirror you refuse to clean.
Why such a sad face my love?
Why do you look at your own flesh with such hatred?
How can you not see what I see?
I left you roses on the window pane, I thought they were significant, representing love and my undying commitment to your heart.
From my special little window, I can see them in a vase on your dining room table, where they have sat for the last few days, petals gently falling and landing on the table top.
They are mortal and will die, but my love for you will not.
As I write this I can see you, laying on your bed, the light still bright on your night stand.
Nothing has ever looked as beautiful as you do in this moment, nothing could possibly look this beautiful again.
Your eyes are closed, mouth slightly ajar, lips glistening with wetness that I can see from where I stand, your hair is flowing around you on the pillows, like a halo around your perfect head.
I have never seen such perfection before, so close to me, so close.
I can't hold back my love; I must get closer.
I need to you to open your eyes and look at me, look at me like you never have.
See me for the first time and realise how dedicated I am to you.
You will never find another man this dedicated, his only purpose making you happy, making your lips flick up at the corners, your head falling gently backward, sweet harmonious laughter escaping from between your open lips.
I can do that.
I can make you happy.
Why can't you see that I can make you happy?
I must get closer to you, I can see your chest rising and falling as you sleep but I can't see the goose bumps that I know adorn your soft skin from the fan that is flying above your head, moving the hair so perfectly placed around you.
I can't let your beauty be affected by such trivial things.
I must get closer...
I will find a way to get to your window, on the second floor of your home, so I can watch you sleep in such bright detail, so my needs can be satisfied.
Will you love me if I learn your every feature better than mine own face?
Will you love me then?
I cannot describe this feeling inside my mind, like I have no control over what I think.
Everything that seemed important before no longer seems real.
Everything is fantasy, blurry around me.
Everything but you, and your huge brown eyes, as you go about your day with such joy, such blissful unawareness for me, the man who has always watched you, removed any danger from your path and done everything in his power to make your everyday perfect.
I can't believe that you cannot see!
What is wrong with your eyes if they cannot see the love in mine?
Why must you be so ignorant to me and what I desire?
I have waited for so long for you to recognise me, recognise the man who loves you, see me as I am and realise that I will never leave you, will never let your heart break, will never hurt you.
Why can't you see?
You are so stupid and blind!
No...
You are not stupid.
You are not blind.
I take it back, I never meant to hurt you with my words.
You are just so unsure about love, I can see it and it hurts me that you cannot see what is standing directly across from you.
I am all you should desire, no man could match the love that I will give to you, every day for the rest of my pitiful life.
I cannot stand to be apart from you, for I am breaking inside, because you cannot see me, you see right through me like I mean nothing to you.
Who do you think brought you those flowers? Who do you think sends you cards with photos of places I know you dream of going?
Who do you think knows you like I do?
I just want you to know me.
Just look at me.
Please.
Look at me and tell me with your own lips and your sing song voice like honey luring me in...
Tell me that I am not everything you could ever want.
Am I not everything you could ever want?
Am I not perfect for you?
Is there another?
Your Secret Admirer
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