all i ever did
would you believe a stranger if they recounted your whole life back at you?
come, see a man who told me all i ever did.
i wish i could look deeper into it. but the truth is, i'm the very model of what not to do. a predictable type of person, embedded in old tomes. i feel seen and understood in the worst kind of way.
telling my whole life with his words... as if he knew me... and then he looked right through me as if i wasn't there
i had a dream about him last night and he looked right at me. he was seeing me. it shook me.
recently, i've learned about the power of a glance. that's how it starts: a thing as simple as eyes meeting each other. this was no glance. it was a stare. a fictional stare and it affected me this much.
i've also learned that one should not entertain our dreams after the fact. here i am, entertaining them. but i am prescribing something different to this dream.
he knows.
there's no way that he doesn't know. he sees right through me. i am naked and transparent under his gaze, and his gaze is analytical and cold. i think i'm okay with being his little experiment. i'm doing my own experiment, too.