What art thou that Usurp'st this Time of Night?

"Is it everything you thought it would be," she asks, seductively leaning against the door frame. Look at her, the whole world at her fingertips. Her confident air is so intoxicating it's sickening. Who does she think she is? She has come here to boast and gawk. She is also angry and vindictive in her tone. 'What have you done to me,' her eyes imply. Who is she? Why is she here? Has she come to torment me? How could she possibly have any influence over me? She has none. I have conquered her. What nerve she has asking me anything! What does she know? What could she possibly know? She has never done a thing for herself! She is incapable of an independent thought. She lives under an illusion of independence. Were illusions ever so bad?

I stand up, facing her. She flinches and she hopes I do not notice. We stand nose to nose, eye to eye. Some things never change. She tries to show her superiority over me. She relies too strongly on the physical. She is no match in strength but she knows she reigns in quickness. She chooses not to make a move in retreat, almost certain I will not harm her. I consider addressing her question, but I resist. I have no need to defend my choices. She would never understand my reasoning. All she knows is youth and beauty. She lives in a suspended state, unaware that these things fade. She has no idea I have not inflicted anything upon her and I let her accusations drift in the air between us.

"I can not believe what you have done to us," she hisses. Sometimes I can not believe it either but I dare not concur with her. I could outwit her easily but I am intelligent enough not to speak. I consider striking her but the perfection of her face stops me. She sees me falter and her eyes suppose victory. Perhaps she has won. How easily I feel defeated. How often I pursue her without her knowing. She evades me every time, only appearing when I would rather her not.

It is time for her to leave and we both know it. She recedes into a memory, from whence she came. She is not gone; she always returns. She lives another day to flaunt her ignorance. I continue to despise her, to pursue her, to hold her, to push her away, to submit to her, to overcome her.