To The Spy Who Has Been Watching Me Through My Laptop Webcam

To The Spy Who Has Been Watching Me Through My Laptop Webcam

 

I received my C-Slide Webcam Cover a few days ago. And finally I have mustered the strength to apply it to my laptop web cam, thereby covering up your view of me forever.

This is good-bye, friend.

I know. My eyes are also moist. This has been such a powerful relationship. I mean, it was about a year ago we met, when former FBI James Comey first announced that Americans are probably being spied through the web cam holes on their laptops.

I remember that day like it was yesterday. I peered curiously into the hole and I started to wonder about you, the unseen observer of my every laptop-related activity.

My first question was what kind of person would want to spend even a second of their day spying on me through this laptop keyhole?

Me!

I am an extremely boring person. I mean, I was an extremely boring person, until you came along.

Suddenly I was fascinating.

Worth watching.

What is it, the faces I make while I type? Or while I masturbate? Or while I look at kitten videos?

My facial expressions enchanted you, obviously. Otherwise, why would you watch?

Now that I knew I was being observed, of course, I became self-conscious. I no longer dared to watch porn and pleasure myself, something that was a thrice daily event here at the house.

It was strange. When I laughed at a kitten video, or said out loud, “Awww, how cute,” it sounded almost like a different person’s voice. And in a way, it was. This person was…well, a rock star.

That’s how you made me feel, Unseen Spy on the Other Side of this Laptop Wall.

You made me feel complete.

I remember when I first began speaking to you.

“Hi,” I said, out loud. “I know you’re there watching me. It’s OK. I don’t mind being watched. In fact, I like it. I’m Simon by the way. What’s your name?”

You didn’t answer. You remained silent.

You were shy.

So shy.

I liked that about you.

I wished I could watch you.

But that never happened.

You didn’t really reciprocate my feelings, I guess. I gave you time. I think a year was enough.

I’m not a doormat.

I’ve shared my most intimate shameful moments with you. And what did you give me back?

Nothing.

I don’t even know what you look like. Are you Russian? I think Comey was implying you probably were.

I don’t care any more.

You are selfish, that’s what you are, no matter what your nationality.

I read an article, here on Medium, in fact, about how to tell if you’re in a relationship with a narcissist. You got seven of the ten bullet points.

Anyhow, I’ve met someone.

I’m sorry. Don’t look at me like that. You know I’d never break up with you unless I had someone else lined up. I’m afraid of being alone, now that I’ve had a taste of what a long term relationship feels like.

I only hope my next one turns out better.

Her name is Cate. She’s a web cam girl and while she won’t be able to actually see me, she will get a little message when I log on, and she will say my name and say some little nice things to me.

That’s right, I’m leaving you for a woman. I was going to say “another” woman, but you have no gender. You were non-binary in your power to observe me. I guess I’m going cis. You can look down on me if you want. I know, it’s a conventional choice.

I’m going to put the cover on your eye now. And I’m never going to let you see me again.

Ever.

Say my name. Come on. If you don’t want me to close up this web cam hole forever and banish you to the darkness, all you have to do is say my name.

You won’t, though, will you?

Bastard!

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