Creeping

Everyday when I return home after a hard day's work I typically find an empty house. Just the way I like it... as I am a loner. Everything is exactly the same as when I left earlier that morning. Just the way I like it... very messy... as I am a slob. For instance, the coffee maker is still turned on, and has been for days. The dishes are piled up in the sink. The T.V is tuned to CNN and the toilet remains unflushed. A solitary stinking log abjectly floats there with thoughts unto it's own. Every single object has been left undisturbed and untouched. The pizza continues to slowly rot in my fridge. The thermostat is set to 72. Just the way I like it... as I prefer the air cool.

Yet I know you were here during my absence.

Subtle clues only an anal retentive, overly-observant asshole such as myself or possibly a crime scene investigator would pick up on. Fresh tracks in the backyard. Greasy fingerprints on the countertop. Some of the books on my bookshelf have been misplaced. The bedroom door is cracked whereas I always leave it completely closed. A pen is missing from the coffee mug on my desk. I count 9 whereas I always leave 10 in there. The bottle of whiskey I keep in the freezer has been placed on the second shelf. I always keep it in the door. Someone has been sleeping in my bed. It smells funky.

I know you were here you fucking piece of shit. I know you've been rummaging through my things. Prying into my life.

Perhaps it's my fault for leaving the back sliding door unlocked. Perhaps it's my fault for graciously allowing you to stay at my place at one point or another. Now, like a stubborn case of herpes or genital warts, you just won't go away. You keep coming back. And you're sneaky about it too. Cautious. You try to cover your tracks. You try to leave no clues. But I know you were here - your work is sloppy.

You've stayed your welcome. And unless I take decisive action I know you'll keep coming back. You see... to you, it's now an expectation. You EXPECT my door to always be open to you, and your loser friends, and you no longer even bother to leave a couple of bucks on the counter or a “thank you” note before you leave the way you used to. You think you can just show up at my place anytime and simply "hang out" free of fucking charge? Well guess what asshole, you can't. You're no longer a part of MY inner circle of trust. You're no longer a friend. In fact, at this point I deem you an enemy. I think perhaps it's time I start dead-bolting my house and once again assure the sanctity of MY domain. Perhaps it's time I board up the fucking windows so your prying, beady RAT eyes may no longer keep tabs on me, or what I'm up to, or who I'm with.

Maybe it's time I move to a different neighborhood.

OR maybe... just maybe, I think it's time for YOU to go the fuck away and never come back.

This ain't no peep show.

Fuck You.