Let Me In

TW: Gaslighting, Stalking

The cool touch of the camera on my cheek is refreshing in comparison to the harsh glare of the sun biting at my skin, and the clicks of the camera shutter cut against the sounds of birds chirping nearby. The weather has been quite unforgiving lately, so when you decided you wanted to go out to the park downtown today, it was a bit of a surprise. I would do anything with you, though, so I eagerly tagged along. It was nice to watch you get ready so excitedly, with your cute, green button-up sweater atop your favorite white tank top, and perfectly paired with your long, floral print skirt – just long enough to lightly brush the tops of your shoes. You adorned your ears with unique, clay earrings that you made yourself the last time you became obsessed with crafting – of course inspired by posts from other artists on social media, as most of your obsessions began. Your hair was down, but held back by a silk headband, perfectly complementing the rest of your ensemble. You looked like a dream, so it was only essential that I bring along my camera to capture you. I didn’t think to ask, but you also didn’t seem to mind. We took the scenic route today, giving ample opportunity for photos. Now that we’re here, you’ve set up shop with a little picnic basket and blanket. You’ve brought some of your favorite fruits, cheeses, crackers, and dips – quite the impressive spread if I might add. You also included some of your classic, homemade lemonade. It was just a recipe you found online, but you liked to consider it your own since you also added little slices of strawberries to the mix. Right beside your array of foods, you’ve placed a small sketchbook. You often carry it around with you inside of your various purses and bags; the only thing that seemed constant in your ever-changing interests was your passion for art. You brought your little, beat-up sketchbook everywhere waiting for opportunities to open it wide and capture the world around you. You see the world as a wonderous place deserving of someone to illustrate its multitude of unique occurrences. Even the tiniest of moments can cause you to pull out your book – such as last year when you were riding your bike to university and a small bug landed right on your handlebars – you stopped and took a few moments to immortalize the moment in your sketchbook. I think that’s one of the things I like most about you: your ability to make even the seemingly most trivial of experiences into something deserving of reverence and commemoration. Right now, you’re using your book to capture the essence of a small bird that is digging its beak into someone’s half-eaten sandwich that’s sticking out of the trash. Not quite an elegant occasion, but to you, still one worthy of note. Trapping this instance in your book forever with your pencil. My camera clicks a few times, and for a few seconds, it feels like we’re the same. I get to snatch a moment in time and keep it to myself, just like you and the bird, you and I will live endlessly through the photos I take. I get the luxury of capturing the world’s most interesting model, you. Just like you seem to live for moments worthy of imprisonment in your book, I live for moments with you, where I can imprison you in my camera. I bought this camera just for you, not that I would ever have the courage to tell you that. It is true, though, that my camera is full only of images of you – to be totally honest, I wouldn’t want it any other way. You fill my mind the way your visage fills my camera roll, and it’s days like today that remind me of why I love you. The only thing about you that sullies our days is that I never receive an invite. I mean, it seems a touch disrespectful that you don’t invite me out. I spend every day thinking of you and our adventures, and you don’t even notice I’m there. You make me resort to hiding instead of openly accepting our relationship. It’s confusing and, honestly, frustrating. I thought I was content with waiting, you know? Patient enough to stand by until you realize that I’m here and ready to give you the world, but to be completely honest, I’m getting tired of watching from afar. Do you know how you make me look? Forcing me to resort to peering into your windows, watching, and taking photos from a distance? It’s dehumanizing and disrespectful to me. I have feelings too, and you don’t consider what I’m feeling when you ignore me. As much as I adore capturing you on film and filling my life with photos of you, I’d rather have you. When will you stop being selfish and let me be with you? No matter what I do… text, call, DM, whatever, you don’t reply. It’s almost as if you don’t want me around? No… I - I know you do, or else you would have switched schools already, or moved away, or something, but you’re still here! You must have hope for us yet, just like me, so why not just accept that we were made for each other? I know everything about you: your favorite foods, your habits – good and bad, your friends, your family, where you live, everything! We were meant for each other. I knew it the moment I met you in class, your little sketchbook in hand drawing the professor rather than taking notes. The looks you gave me, when we would run into each other on campus, I knew. You were for me. Don’t you know it too? Maybe if we could just talk, I could tell you how much we have in common, and I could show you how beautiful you are to capture on my camera. I could show you everything, just please let me in.