He keeps moving things around.
Little things, but it’s still a nuisance.
I’ll be doing something, not paying attention, and then realize that my table is at the opposite end of my room, or the book I was reading has been moved from my room to the kitchen.
I’ve been trying to make him stop, but he won’t, and I really have no idea what to do about it.
Just now, I left my phone on the desk and went to the kitchen to get something to eat.
While I was looking through the fridge, my text tone went off; it was unusually loud. I walked into the dining room and saw my phone sitting on the table. This is what I tell Kristy when I call her.
“And other things,” I say, my voice growing more desperate. “Just little things, but I can’t get him to stop moving them! And whenever I go somewhere, he follows me and moves things there, too. But it’s mostly a problem at home. I can’t ever relax because I’m constantly missing things or noticing that they’ve been moved somewhere else. At first it wasn’t that bad, but it’s been getting worse. And I don’t know how to fix it.”
There is a long silence. Then, Kristy’s voice returns.
“But, Tracy … you live alone.”
“I know it,” I say, and try not to cry.
—
Credits to: keyplayer24
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