Dearest Reader,
Who is he?
You know who I am talking about, the man at your door last night.
The one who came, dressed in a suit, freshly cleaned, aftershave lathered on so thick I could smell it from where I stood. The one who carried roses redder than your cheeks and who drove a car older than this stupid pitiful street.
The same car I heard you call 'vintage' like it was a compliment.
You opened the door to him, after getting dressed for exactly two hours and thirteen minutes, this dress you wore was the eleventh one you'd tried on.
Why must you try so hard to impress him?
Who is he?
You let him into your home, you placed his stupid trashy flowers that he bought from the deli down the road in a vase worth more than every hair on his despicable head.
You let him sit at your freshly cleaned table and spoke to him, your laugh trickling through the walls to my awaiting ears. Why must you laugh like that for someone like him?
Then after an agonising twenty-four minutes you followed him out of your perfect house into his worthless car.
I couldn't let you drive away without me.
So I put nails in his good for nothing tyres and watched him struggle to get the car moving, embarrassment crawling warmly up his horrendous neck.
But you didn't care.
You laughed and helped to change the tyre, your dress somehow staying pristine, make up not even slightly smudged.
How?
When it was done you both laughed some more, your hands clenched over your stomachs like somehow this event that should have destroyed the possibility of a good night only made it better.
Why?
I followed you.
My car, clean and sleek, unlike his shabby excuse for transportation made no sound as it followed you down the silent street.
I could barely contain my anger as I watched your hand come up to brush the hair on the back of his neck.
My knuckles tightened on the steering wheel, my jaw clenching as I tried to breathe through my emotions.
How could you do this to me?
How could you betray my love like this, I never once turned away from you, I never once gave any hint at another, you are my sole purpose, my everything, how could you do this to me?
His car pulled into a restaurant I had never seen before, with bright glimmering lights and princess castle stairs that lead up into the dining room.
A restaurant fit for a queen.
At least he could do that right.
As you left his car with the men awaiting the keys I watched you turn to look back at my car, a glimmer of something unknown in your eyes.
Could it have been an apologetic look?
Could it have been a hint of sorry?
Is he forcing you to be here?
My mind does not have the capability to remain calm like yours, my emotions have always streamed clearly across my face.
When I saw you walk, hand in hand with him into this restaurant so perfect for you, I could feel nothing but anger, a bright blinding white light in my vision.
I hope you can now understand why I did what I did.
I drove around to the empty car park on the other side of the street.
I waited.
I waited for four hours and three minutes while you talked about nothing and laughed like he was the funniest man in the world.
But we both know he is nothing in comparison to you.
He does not deserve you, he couldn't possibly understand the complexity of your mind, could never even begin to fathom why you do the things you do, could never understand your past or begin to imagine your future.
Why are you doing this sweet girl?
You are only hurting yourself, because deep down you know, he is not right for you.
You are built to remain apart for eternity.
He does not own you.
You do not belong to him.
You belong to me.
I should be the only man you laugh with, I should be the only one to make you change eleven times before each date, because you're nervous about looking perfect in front of me.
I should be the only man who takes you to expensive dinners, with cuff links especially chosen to match your eyes.
It should always be me.
Not him.
Not anyone but me.
Can't you see by now sweet girl; I am all you should see.
I hope this helps you to understand why I did it, why I had to.
I couldn't let you throw away your heart on a man who didn't deserve to even see it in full flourish.
It's not your fault, I hope you know that.
I just couldn't control my heartbeat in my chest when you two finally exited the palace doors, your arms wrapped around one another.
Your drunken voices mingling in the cool night air.
When he called a taxi, his jacket around your bare shoulders I wanted nothing more than to walk to your side and take you away from him, take you somewhere else.
This was the tenth time I'd seen you with him.
But the other nine I hadn't really known for sure, when you spoke about him on the phone you always said 'old friend' like he meant nothing to you.
But tonight everything changed.
The taxi, my car on its tail, the light glinting on the footpath.
In the back-seat I could see you, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, your head leaning against his chest.
Like he could provide you with half the warmth you desired.
He dropped you at your house, the taxi hovering on the side of the road, while he led you to the door.
I watched, my heart caught in my throat as you pressed your palm to his cheek, leaning forward to gently kiss his lips, your eyes squeezed shut, like a school kid.
You must now see.
Why I followed him back to his home, waited for the taxi driver to leave, then dragged him from his front door step, his key still in the lock.
You have to understand why I took him into his house, tied a rope around his neck and swung him from his kitchen fan.
You have to see why. Because he wanted you. He was selfish and ignorant to what you are and what you need.
He wanted to own what is rightfully mine and I just can't live with that.
That is why sweet girl, he had to die.
Your Secret Admirer