stalker

By: JC (as published in Spires 45)

Dearest Meisha,

This is just a waste of ink and paper. You would not be able to answer this anyway. But I still decided to use this sheet up so I could express the thoughts I have buried at the deepest corner of my mind. It just came to me that sitting here at the rooftop of our condominium building is the best place to write this note. I feel so near you. Though I was just a few doors away, it seems that you did not know I stayed in the same building.

I watched you walk down the hall everyday. Damn you look good! I just could not understand how your simplicity becomes an image of grandeur whenever my eyes watch a glimpse of you. I always followed you from your unit till you cross to the driveway where you boyfriend always waits for you. Damn I wish it was me who pick you up there everyday. But how could that be?

I skip classes once in a while just to see you rehearse with your band. Damn you sing great! I just could not understand how that voice of yours could reverberate from that microphone all the way to my heart and continue on singing till I fall asleep at night. I always sat at the rear of the auditorium. Maybe you saw me, but I guess you did not.

I fell in line close to you at the cafeteria for lunch almost every day. I even pick the table nearest to you so I could see you laugh with your friends as you sip your mango shake. That was your favorite. I just could not understand how your laughs could bring so much grace that I could not help but order whatever dish you order so I could find out how the food you eat could bring you that damn pretty smile of yours. Too bad for me I did not find out what it is, I just got allergic to the tempura you ate the other day.

I bumped into you a number of times. You looked at me and apologized even if it was obvious that the fault was mine. I loved it whenever you say sorry while you flip your hair. But your stare was empty, and it seems that your eyes just go through mine without you even recognizing that it was me who kept on bumping into you once in a while. I just could not understand how despite those empty stares; you still manage to captivate me. Maybe I’d just keep on bumping you so you’d see that it has always been me. But maybe you still won’t.

I always wanted to catch your attention. I was thinking that maybe, if I could just make you look at me, you would see how much I wanted to spend time with you. You could see how much you could have enjoyed me walking you home, or me watching you sing with you band, or I laughing with you while you sip your mango shake. I just could not understand how you could not notice me even if I just lurked in the dark shadows behind you. Maybe it is just because I did not do anything worth your interest yet. Maybe I ought to do something worth the 11 o’clock new tonight. Maybe.

It just feels good writing this to you. I have always wanted to secretly drop a letter on your bag whenever we bump into each other, or slip in my note down your doorstep whenever I pass by your unit – but I did not take the risk. But now I’m writing this letter so you could understand how much I wanted you to really see me. There would be no risk anymore, and I'm pretty sure that with what I would do, you would recognize me this time.

Anyway, it’s already 10 o’clock. The traffic down the avenue in front of our building is starting to be lighter now. It’s good I won’t be bothering much people. But I’m pretty sure you’d be running outside once you see our building on national TV at 11. By that time I’m pretty sure you’d recognize me as the guy who bumped into you a couple of times before. Only this time, it would be just you who would see me. And I’m sure you’d see me.

To always haunt you,
Cyril