letters to hide

to the neighbour

dear,
the one with cigarettes.

you do realize that our houses are basically conjoined, right? and by that i mean every time you smoke, i can smell it from my room and i should also remember that every time i sing when i'm home alone, you can hear me. but do you know i hear you too, right? that i listen?

not to sound like a stalker or anything but i can hear you talking to your friends about your problems and i can see the way you lock your doors twice before you leave. i also know that you get up at 2:30 am to have a smoke, the same time i get up for absolutely no reason. and i know you notice me too because when you take a drag to clear out your mind, you often blow it towards the moon. i guess you know about my obsession with wolves too.

we don't talk much, apart from the occasional glances at our late night rituals but i think we both know things about each other. i genuinely like it this way because we don't have to put much effort. this way its less complicated because we don't speak yet communicate so easily. (except that once conversation that was "nice pajamas" "thanks it has spongebob" "yup, i can see that")

although we don't exchange words, i do know you want to come over to pet my dog and i know that you find comfort in the dark. i also know that you and your mum never got along and i know that your parents's divorce had affected you the most. i know you eat a lot when you're stressed and i know you smoke because your mum does and its the only way you feel connected to her.

you should realize that it isn't the only way.

and when you feel lost and you think no one can truly listen to the feelings instead of your words, i hope you know that i do understand you.

i do.

i do.

i do.

love,
the girl with the open window.