Creep

Do you know?
Do you know I still see you make bread? I see the oven preheat and I see it preheat again. Do you know I still smell you? I got that bottle you told me about. Do you know I still look at immigration policies? I've been thinking about moving to be near you. Do you know I still eat fruity pebbles? It was scary at the time, but not anymore. Do you know I still think about our kids sometimes? I'm barren now, so it'll never happen.

Do you realize?
Do you realize I remember the way you'd brown the crust? That I still smile when I see you working in this cute hobby you picked up for us? Do you realize how much those memories mean to me? That when I'm down, when I feel alone, I spend one spritz and remember a time with you? Do you realize that I still want to live with you? That I know it could never happen, and you already have something else but I still daydream? Do you realize I never forgot that night? That for one moment you stopped being this icon of purity and became another person just like me? Do you realize that it's been almost 20 years and I still find myself wondering what if? That when I begged you to tell me why I wasn't useful I would be thinking about that text for the rest of my life?

Do all of you know that I'm a disgusting creep? Do all of you realize where it comes from? If I thought you didn't know, I could never tell you. If I thought you'd read this, I could never post it, but you don't stalk my blog. You don't read anything I write, because you're not me. Half of you don't even know my name anymore, half of you will never get this link, and those of you that have it already expressed your distate. I'll collect these picture perfect fantasies of what we could be doing together until I die. And maybe there's a chance for us to live them out if only I shared them with you. But, you know, you can assume, and I know you don't. Everybody in the world is doing something without me.