13. Chapter 13
Addy
Hi Sasha,
You really enjoy telling me what I’m doing, don’t you? It’s impressive. Bold, even. Slightly incorrect, but I admire the confidence.
I won’t pretend I don’t feel the pull. I just don’t agree with your interpretation of it. You think it means ownership. I think it means curiosity — and I’ve always been curious about things I’m not supposed to touch.
Who says you interest me enough to Google you? Don’t flatter yourself. If I wanted a face, I could have one in about three clicks, and I haven’t. I prefer you like this — disembodied, inconvenient, slightly smug. A voice I get to invent. A presence only existing when I decide to sit down and write.
You say I wouldn’t write this way to just anyone. I’m not pretending this could be anyone. I’m saying it doesn’t have to be you. There’s a difference. I stay because I want to, not because I’m caught.
You keep telling me to take my time like you’re unaffected. But you wouldn’t be writing like this if you were. You wouldn’t be watching this closely.
Still not yours.
Convince yourself otherwise if you need to.
— Addy