anxious shilohlives Two minutes left untill he end of this class...It feels as though I've been trapped here for an eternity. The thought of you coming home with me today is making me slightly nausious..not because I don't want you there...but because of the fear that you won't want to be there. I'm anxious to find out how it will work out... I hope it goes well. 040505 ... tender_square as the work day winds down to expiry, my belly becomes a washing machine. i drive east and the awareness comes with the speed of merging vehicles: i don't want to go home. the weekend evokes aloneness. and open hours suggest the slow pains of waiting for the next incident to occur. his car is parked where it always is and i tense, willing my joints to release and breathe. inside, i pack a bag quickly for a pre-planned overnight at my parents. outside, i hear his vehicle rumble to life and idle: he isn't going anywhere. i turn the deadbolt behind me and whisk my bags to the passenger seat so he can't make sense of my intentions. i circle the hood and climb into the driver's side. the vehicle chirps out beeps of caution as i reverse course. i pass his car and whisper, "please don't follow me." a block later, he does. 230707 ... tender_square an officer said he was very familiar with my tenant. "you see how his car is so dented? he was trying to run people over in his old neighbourhood," he revealed to his partner with me in earshot. i deconstruct that sentence and ruminate over the word "trying." is this why the tenant is under observation in the courts and not jailed? i walk the neighbourhood with earbuds in. like a tic, i can't stop looking over my shoulder, in case he creeps in approach. i study the profile of every black sedan that passes, search for ridiculous rims, his troll face peering beneath a ball cap. 230709 ... tender_square i unpack the accoutrements of an overnight stay; i cannot sort the sloshing that unfurls in my center. i stare out to the empty street and take in the silence. yes, my home will be mine again and soon. the tenant's behaviour is unpredictable. yes, a temporary truce has been reached, but to let my guard down would be dangerous. 230715 ... tender_square yesterday, he waited on the porch for me to arrive at the end of my work day. he knows my schedule, my routines. i had a dental appointment that kept me away for another hour. i watched camera footage before i left the lot and knew what i'd be walking into. he was gone when i arrived, i'd missed him by five minutes. the front yard was trashed and the hallway was too. i didn't realize he had already given me possession back because he claimed he would stay until tonight at midnight. the police advised me not to stay and told me i'd be ordered to let him in if i locked him out, fearing worse damage. little did i know it had already happened. i smudged the stairwell and every room of my apartment, my basement. i mixed plantain and white sage, hossip and clover, and sprinkled dried dandelion around the perimeter of the house under the super moon. i poured a path of salt by the front door and said a prayer before leaving. he never returned last night; i woke every hour with worry checking cameras. this morning, i discovered his key glued into the deadbolt lock on his apartment door and opened to a stench of rot and garbage, his coup de grace. the last time i saw him he cut, "what? no hissy fit today?" yesterday, he wanted to see the look on my face. today, i know he'll be back because he didn't get the satisfaction. he already came by this afternoon while i was work; sped away when my neighbour stepped outside and photographed him. i waited on the porch with a baseball bat before dark, talking a big game but unsure that i could go there. and as the sun sets, my anxiety rises. i sit on the couch with open windows, turning my head like a five-second tic, waiting to see his black chariot in front, torturing me. 230831 ... tender_square i arrive home after two days away. i hear the nervous movements of someone who can't sit still. the scent of burning bud impregnates air. i turn my head toward the upper window, convinced he has somehow returned, evaded cameras, moved back in. my neighbour coughs from the backyard and the panic lessens. 230910 what's it to you? who go blather from