by Nora McIntyre
Your Honor,
If you knew my voyeur like I do, you'd see differently. Where you see a lonely, balding tax accountant with borderline antisocial tendencies, I see an overworked, underappreciated everyman who's trying to make due with the few hours of spare time he has at night.
When's he with me, watching on the other side of that windowpane, it just makes me feel like I'm the only girl in the world to him. He takes the time to make ME feel special. I just haven't felt that way in a long time. I thought that I didn't deserve any better than the one-sided conjugal visit routine that I was stuck in for so long.
But Ronnie showed me that I deserve more than that. I deserve more than constant requests for money to be added to an account at the prison commissary. I deserve to be in the spotlight, captivating an audience of one. Ronnie is just so giving with his time and his attention. Call me crazy, but he just knows how to make a woman feel special.
Honestly, we shouldn't even be at trial, except for the fact that I found out he was seeing other people.
You see, Your Honor, I knew Ronnie was watching, but I didn't know if he knew that I knew. And the last thing I wanted to do is scare off another gentleman suitor. So I would dress up, but not make it too obvious...no French maid outfits. But one Friday night, I found myself vacuuming in a black teddy, paying extra special attention to cleaning behind and under the couch with the hose attachment, only to find that there was no familiar shadow by the window. I turned the dimmer switch off and cried myself to sleep in the den that night.
And then I found out he was picked up by the police off-campus near the sorority houses. I just...I just was so infuriated! Several months ago, when I missed out on a promotion, he watched me eat tacos in my underwear while I despondently watched television. And I thought I had someone who would really stick with me through the ups and downs. And then I find out he's willing to peep on some run-of-the-mill, pastel-wearing sorority bimbo? Ooooh....you bet I joined in to press charges!
But I just can't stay mad at Ronnie. Please, Your Honor, drop my charges against him. You don't know how he's like with me, and you don't know him like I know him. Why should the state assume charges when I can't even charge him with anything besides stealing my heart?
I really don't want him in jail, because I thought the conjugal visit phase of my life was over. And I just couldn't stand to see Ronnie brought down to the level of all the other prisoners who wanted money deposits for phonecards and ramen noodles from the commissary.
Ronnie's seen into the window of my heart.