like I’m a serial killer with a soldier truck and a drive dawn until dusk tunnel vision prizefighter tenacity. That is not me. I did not Google Earth you, so none of these thoughts took place and you can go on speaking to your neighbors who think you are only normally special. Fine. Give me their eyes. Their eyes should belong to me so I can shut them permanently. Undeserving of rods and cones. Complete bitches.
Do not worry, I will never find you. You will be safe. I did not Google Map you. I do not know that, by car, it would take one day and six hours to reach your house. I do not know that, if I take I-15N and I-70 East it will shorten that drive by one hour. I do not know that there are exactly 1,833 miles that I would have to drive in order to pull up in front of that brick building with the ivy. I would not sit in that car with sunglasses on waiting and watching with asphalt burned eyes feeling like an astronaut lady in a diaper. It would be much different. I do not know that, were I to forgo the soldier truck, if the soldier truck stood strong in refusal, that it would take 24 days and 17 hours to walk to where you are. I do not know that if I printed the directions out, I would need 14 sheets of 8.5 x 11 paper because there are 506 points of instruction. 506 pieces of directions that tell me how to get to you; all of them a caring grandfather type holding the sides of my head in his hands, compressing my hair, warm from the sun, kissing the crown of it, whispering, be safe. 506 steps I will cross off one by one, each one a victory. I will not need three pairs of shoes because of the wear and tear. I will not have a backpack filled with supplies and I won’t sleep in forests or dry riverbeds or under bridges and I will not get raped by a vagrant in my walk to where you are. I do not know that, if the vagrant, dry riverbeds, and forests, and shoe wearing are too difficult that I have the option to ride a bicycle. I do not know that if I rode a bike to you it would take seven days and five hours. I do not know what the average speed would be in order to maintain this schedule. I could guess that my intended speed would be the fastest pedaling I could maintain, but this would not be realistic, and perhaps this time frame would be based on an average speed, a manageable one. I do not know the uphills or the downhills or the times I might fall, or the cars that might hit me. Bike riding is a way I could get to you. I do not know the distance or time frame or method of public transportation it would take to get to you because Google Maps did not have options because my location is “outside of their current coverage area” so, this I truly do not know. A bus or a taxi seems too plain to make this quest. Too easy. Baby candy taking. If all of this was something I would do, I’d want my blood in it. I’d want my sweat to show you what it means. I would like the cramp of each of my muscles, and the withering of my fat, and the grind of my bones, and the blisters of sunburn to show you how I strived. Even a truck, even a soldier truck, brave and shaming, seems unworthy now. This I know now. I know this. I want to show you. You should understand. You should understand in your core. You should know what you are dealing with. If, of course, this is done by me.
Which, it most definitely is not.
Don’t worry, I will never find you. Do not worry. You are safe.
Unless you do not want to be safe.
Do you long to feel my approach? I dare not believe this. The thought would rip me in two. Do you look for me at the curb? Do you think of dark roads bringing me closer? Do you want my teeth to tear into you? Do you want me to leave your blood in pools on the floor? Do you want to see me sliding in it, struggling? My hands on you. Will you not fight? Maybe you want to feel my offensive. Everything I brought with me, the journey hard on my form. All for you. You would endure for this. You would let me hurt you in
Do not worry, I will never find you. You will be safe. I did not Google Map you. I do not know that, by car, it would take one day and six hours to reach your house. I do not know that, if I take I-15N and I-70 East it will shorten that drive by one hour. I do not know that there are exactly 1,833 miles that I would have to drive in order to pull up in front of that brick building with the ivy. I would not sit in that car with sunglasses on waiting and watching with asphalt burned eyes feeling like an astronaut lady in a diaper. It would be much different. I do not know that, were I to forgo the soldier truck, if the soldier truck stood strong in refusal, that it would take 24 days and 17 hours to walk to where you are. I do not know that if I printed the directions out, I would need 14 sheets of 8.5 x 11 paper because there are 506 points of instruction. 506 pieces of directions that tell me how to get to you; all of them a caring grandfather type holding the sides of my head in his hands, compressing my hair, warm from the sun, kissing the crown of it, whispering, be safe. 506 steps I will cross off one by one, each one a victory. I will not need three pairs of shoes because of the wear and tear. I will not have a backpack filled with supplies and I won’t sleep in forests or dry riverbeds or under bridges and I will not get raped by a vagrant in my walk to where you are. I do not know that, if the vagrant, dry riverbeds, and forests, and shoe wearing are too difficult that I have the option to ride a bicycle. I do not know that if I rode a bike to you it would take seven days and five hours. I do not know what the average speed would be in order to maintain this schedule. I could guess that my intended speed would be the fastest pedaling I could maintain, but this would not be realistic, and perhaps this time frame would be based on an average speed, a manageable one. I do not know the uphills or the downhills or the times I might fall, or the cars that might hit me. Bike riding is a way I could get to you. I do not know the distance or time frame or method of public transportation it would take to get to you because Google Maps did not have options because my location is “outside of their current coverage area” so, this I truly do not know. A bus or a taxi seems too plain to make this quest. Too easy. Baby candy taking. If all of this was something I would do, I’d want my blood in it. I’d want my sweat to show you what it means. I would like the cramp of each of my muscles, and the withering of my fat, and the grind of my bones, and the blisters of sunburn to show you how I strived. Even a truck, even a soldier truck, brave and shaming, seems unworthy now. This I know now. I know this. I want to show you. You should understand. You should understand in your core. You should know what you are dealing with. If, of course, this is done by me.
Which, it most definitely is not.
Don’t worry, I will never find you. Do not worry. You are safe.
Unless you do not want to be safe.
Do you long to feel my approach? I dare not believe this. The thought would rip me in two. Do you look for me at the curb? Do you think of dark roads bringing me closer? Do you want my teeth to tear into you? Do you want me to leave your blood in pools on the floor? Do you want to see me sliding in it, struggling? My hands on you. Will you not fight? Maybe you want to feel my offensive. Everything I brought with me, the journey hard on my form. All for you. You would endure for this. You would let me hurt you in
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