You haunt every breath, every moment. When I sleep, I can see you, smell you. Yet I cannot touch you, just as I cannot when I am awake. You flitter away when I reach out, yet you do not go far. You tantalize me, staying out of reach but making it impossible for me to forget you, even for a moment. Whether I am awake or asleep, you haunt me.
And you call me the stalker.
I wonder what would happen if we died, together, at the same moment. Would your breath and mine mingle, unite, and rise up together? Wouldn’t we then, be together, inseparably, irrevocably?
But how can that happen if I can’t go near you?
Maybe tomorrow you will go to that little deserted temple across the park again. You haven’t been for two weeks, but then you haven’t seen me in that time either. I know you love going there. I can wait there, in my hiding place on the tree, and wait for you tomorrow, the next day… till you come. You might bring your sister like you did a few times. But I can wait till you come alone. Or maybe – it won’t matter if she’s there. I am strong – and by the time she fetches help, it will be too late.
I don’t have a gun, but I don’t want one. Guns are so efficient, so unemotional. I will take a long, sharp knife and plunge it straight to your heart so that it doesn’t hurt much. You will look at me, perhaps, with surprise. But I won’t have time to lose and will use the knife again. Blood will flow straight from your heart, red with passion, and blend with mine. We will fall to the earth; our breaths will mingle and rise up to the heavens in an erotic dance…