Voyeur.

When I was younger, I used to imagine being watched. It's happening again. I'll brush my teeth, wash my face, check the mirror, pad to my bedroom, and get undressed. The whole time, I'll imagine that someone is wordlessly watching me, noticing every little movement and fine detail. They watch, and they love every motion. The way I use my hands turns them on. My face, clean and nude in the mirror, looks beautiful. Simple gestures are a turn-on. I'm not pretending or posturing, just doing my normal routine and in it, someone finds me fascinating and gorgeous.

I can't tell why I do this. Does it dispel loneliness? Is it a gesture of kindness toward myself, to see beauty in even the mundane parts of my life? Is it a pathetic longing? What is this need? To be merely watched? Or to be seen?