We'll talk.

Here, wherever. You’ll create a burner account. That would make sense.

You'll confirm that I'm real. Candid. Surprisingly normal. That I've thought this out. And that I've done it before. And that I'm better-looking than you expected.

Then, if it works, we'll meet. We'll meet in public or semi-public... somewhere safe. Maybe more than once.

We'll talk a little about logistics. Your schedule, your calendar. I'll offer to put down money to pay for you to change your locks whenever you become uncomfortable with my access, before or after I take you. Regardless of whether you take me up on the offer... you'll be surprised at how much you enjoy those meetings... because the act of meeting to plan something like this -- the fact that you're becoming comfortable with it, making it real -- will make your heart race. Even when I put that money down so that you can rekey your locks.

But what will make your chest absolutely pound will be watching yourself slide a key to your place across the table of some coffee shop to a total stranger.

And, to be honest, your heart won't really stop pounding. It'll calm down here and there... but the slightest thing will set it off again. When you're at work, thinking about what might be waiting for you at home. When you get into your car and leave your house, wondering if I'm watching you.

When you're enjoying a quiet night by yourself and you see a coffee mug where you don't think you left it.

When you question whether you're catching a hint of an unfamiliar, clean, masculine scent in the air at your place.

Because whenever you're alone at your place over the next few weeks... I could be there.

And one day... I will.

Maybe it will be the instant you come home. I'll slam the door behind you, then pin you to the ground. Faster than you can even react. Much faster.

Or maybe you'll be watching tv... finishing a conversation with a friend on the phone... and you'll suddenly feel my hand over your mouth -- and one on your throat -- from behind. And then... you'll feel the heat of my face next to yours.

Or maybe you'll just wake up with me, ski mask and all, on top of you... as you question whether the laugh that escapes from me as you struggle is the same one you heard in the coffee shops.

Regardless... the first time will be rough.

You can fight as hard as you want... but it won't matter.

And you will come...

Hard.