I wrote this for a friend of mine recently after he confessed to me that he had been watching me through my bedroom window the night I lost my viginity back when we were in high school. Enjoy!
My parents are away for the weekend. It is early summer at the beginning of a new decade. My window is open and there is a soft breeze that is causing my blinds to bang softly against the sill. My neon radio is the only source of light as it fills my room with a soft hum of late night love ballads.
I am lying in my bed, unsatisfied and completely unhappy with my boyfriend's lack luster performance moments earlier. I am frustrated and a little pent up as I watch him dress and leave my bedroom; sickened by the look of accomplishment on his face as he waves goodbye to me.
I replay the events of our sexual exploits, and sigh. Then I toss back the sheets, stand up and walk out of my room, heading towards the bathroom for a quick cold shower before turning in for the night; anxious to rid my body of his sweat and other bodily fluids.
I return to my room a few minutes later, wet and smelling sweet of soap. My hair is dripping onto my shoulders and down my back as I fish through my underwear drawer, hunting for my favorite black bikini panties; the ones with the hot pink bows on the hips. I let my towel fall to the floor as I pull them up my legs. I then open another drawer and pull out a black tank top; pulling it over my head, and slipping my arms through it.
Picking up my towel, I flip my head upside down and give my hair a quick drying off. It is still very damp, but anxious to get into bed, I throw the towel into a corner, pull back my sheets and climb in.
I can feel sleep trying to over take my mind. I turn my face towards the warm breeze coming from the window and take a deep, calming breath. Then I see something; a shadow. Is it my imagination or was there movement in that dark silhouette? A shiver runs down my spine as I summon my strength and call out, "Hello? Is someone out there?"
There is no answer, but still, I'm convinced that I saw movement. I carefully and quietly get out of bed, and on tip toe, approach the window. I stand close to the wall as I sink down to my knees and reach out to lift the blinds.
In a flash, I tug on the blind cord, leaving only darkness to conceal your identity from me. I can see you standing against the wall; your chest is heaving as you realize that you've been caught. "Who are you?" You still refuse to show yourself or speak.
My mind is a whirl of thoughts now. Who would be standing outside my window this late at night? How long had this person been watching me? What did he see? I lick my lips; I am filled with confusion. Part of me is nervous, maybe even a little scared of not knowing who this person is. The other part of me feels charged with the thought that my boyfriend and I had been watched.
"I know you're out there; I can see you."
You still don't answer me. Mustering all the bravery within me, I reach out and unlatch my window screen; letting it fall to the ground beside you. You move one step away as I stick my head out into the open air of the star-lit night sky, and then I see you, and I instantly know who you are.
"Is that you?"
Your shoulders drop with the realization that there is no more hiding. "Yes," you whisper.
"How long have you been standing outside my window?"
You walk over and squat down in front of me from the other side of the window frame. You don't answer me, but the sheepish smile on your face betrays you.
"Were you watching us?" I ask. I can feel a blush spread across my cheeks.
You fidget uncomfortably, trying everything to not have to look into my eyes.
"You were, weren't you? Did you get a good show?" I ask with a giggle.
"Maybe," you finally say, "But I liked the show better after he left."
I look at you for a minute, not sure what to say. I search my feelings and realize that I'm not mad. Of all people, I trust you and know that you're not there to mock me. I know in my heart that what you saw will always stay locked in your mind.
I smile then. "I didn't enjoy the show much either and I was part of it."
"I'm sorry." You stand up, and with a smile, you turn to leave out the side gate.
I stand up quickly with alarm. "Where are you going?"
"Home."
"Why now? Come back here and talk to me."
"Really? Are you sure?"
"Yes."
You close the gate quietly and walk back towards me. You sit down on the ground and look up at me as I settle back down onto my knees, just inside my room. I prop myself up on my elbows against the window sill and smile down at you.
"So what should we talk about," you ask.
I shrug. "I don't know." You and I are both silent as we both think hard on a subject we can discuss. The thing plaguing my mind is the anger that I feel toward my boyfriend and his sloppy sexual practices.
