You

The Beginnings of Obsession

Dear Stranger, you might be wondering who I am, and why I'm writing to you. Well, let me introduce myself.

I'm Joe. Joe Goldberg.

And I've got a story that could change the way you see the world, the way you look at people, and maybe, just maybe, the way you look at yourself. My life, you see, has been a series of fixations.

A dedication to detail that some might call..

. obsession.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves. It all began in a bookstore, the musty smell of old pages and the hushed whispers of each reader's inner world colliding with mine.

I watched them, learned their habits, their quirks. And then, she walked in.

The way her eyes scanned the shelves, a thirst for knowledge, for escape. I knew she was different.

And just like that, I was hooked. You might understand this feeling, this pull towards someone, something, that feels like fate.

It's exhilarating, isn't it? But be warned, it's a dangerous edge to dance upon. My journey from that point was a dive into the depths of someone else's life.

I saw her—let's call her Beck—as a puzzle to be solved, a book to be read. And as I delved deeper, I found myself reflected in the darkest parts of her story.

Maybe you've felt this too, the desire to be someone's savior, to be so entwined in their narrative that you lose where theirs ends and yours begins. It's a feeling that can consume you if you're not careful.

The Illusion of Control

Control is a funny thing. We all crave it, in one way or another.

We believe that if we can just hold the reins tightly enough, we can steer our lives away from chaos. I thought I had control when I started rearranging Beck's life, removing obstacles, guiding her fate.

But the truth is, control is an illusion, a mirage in the desert of our existence. You might think your grip on life is firm, that you're the master of your destiny.

I thought so too. I made plans, executed them with what I believed was precision.

But life, dear reader, has a way of throwing curveballs. And when they come hurtling at you, all you can do is swing and hope for the best.

You know this, don't you? The job that slipped through your fingers, the lover that left, the friend that betrayed you. We're not so different, you and I.

As my plans began to unravel, as Beck's life spiraled in ways I couldn't predict, I learned a hard truth. We're all just one step away from chaos, no matter how tightly we cling to our illusions.

It's a humbling realization, one that might make you feel lost at first. But there's a certain freedom in acknowledging the randomness of life.

It means there's always a chance for something new, something unexpected. Keep that in mind.

The Price of Secrets

Everyone has secrets. It's a universal truth, as common as the air we breathe.

But what we often fail to realize is the weight they carry, the burden they become. I collected secrets like some people collect stamps, convinced they were the key to unlocking Beck's heart.

I thought I was being clever, careful. But secrets are slippery things, and they have a way of escaping at the worst possible times.

You've felt the strain of a secret before, haven't you? The way it gnaws at your conscience, the effort it takes to keep it hidden. It's exhausting.

Secrets can make you feel powerful, but they can also make you paranoid, isolated. I learned this the hard way, as my own secrets began to pile up, each one a ticking time bomb waiting to destroy the fragile world I had built.

When those secrets started to come out, it wasn't just my world that suffered. It was Beck's too.

The fallout was catastrophic, a chain reaction of revelations that left nothing untouched. You see, secrets have a cost, and often, we're not the only ones who pay the price.

Remember that next time you're tempted to keep something hidden. Transparency might be terrifying, but it's often less destructive in the long run.

The Mirage of Perfection

We're all searching for perfection, aren't we? The perfect job, the perfect home, the perfect partner. I thought I had found perfection in Beck.

I placed her on a pedestal, worshipped her flaws as quirks, her mistakes as lessons. But perfection is a mirage, a trick of the light that distorts reality.

Maybe you've been there, chasing after the illusion, only to find that it fades upon closer inspection. Perfection is a standard no one can meet, a goal no one can achieve.

And when you try to force someone into that mold, it only leads to pain—for them, and for you. I had to learn this by watching Beck crumble under the expectations I had set for her, expectations she never asked for and could never fulfill.

It's a hard pill to swallow, the realization that perfection is unattainable. But there's beauty in imperfection, in the unique messiness of each human life.

It's where character is built, where love is tested, where growth happens. Embrace the imperfections, in others and in yourself.

It might just be the most freeing thing you do.

The Echoes of the Past

The past has a way of echoing into our present, shaping our actions, our decisions, our very lives. I learned this as I dug into Beck's history, uncovering the roots of her behavior, the ghosts that haunted her.

It was a reminder that we are all products of our experiences, for better or worse. You've heard the echoes too, haven't you? The way a childhood memory can suddenly influence a choice you make today, the way past relationships color your current ones.

It's inescapable. But while we can't change our past, we can learn from it.

We can use it to understand ourselves, to empathize with others, to break cycles that have held us captive. Understanding Beck's past didn't excuse my actions, but it did illuminate the complexities of human behavior.

It showed me that to truly know someone, you have to understand where they've been, not just where they are. The past is a powerful teacher, if only we're willing to listen to its lessons.

The Illusion of a Clean Slate

We all long for a fresh start, a clean slate. I thought I could give that to Beck, and in a way, to myself.

But the truth is, life is more like a palimpsest, layers upon layers of experiences that can never be fully erased. Each choice we make, each action we take, leaves a mark that shapes the future.

Maybe you've tried to start over, to leave behind the mistakes of yesterday. It's a noble endeavor, but it's important to remember that our pasts are not something to be discarded.

They are a part of us, woven into the fabric of our being. A clean slate is an illusion, but that doesn't mean change is impossible.

It just means that change is a process, one that requires acceptance and effort. As my world collapsed around me, as I faced the consequences of my actions, I realized that starting over wasn't about forgetting the past.

It was about learning from it, growing from it, and moving forward with a deeper understanding of who I am and who I want to be. You can do the same.

It's never too late to change the narrative of your life, to make better choices, to be a better person. Just remember that it starts with acceptance, not erasure.

Emerging from the Shadows

In the end, dear reader, my story is one of darkness and light, of obsession and awakening. I've walked through the shadows, made choices I can never take back.

But in those shadows, I also found glimmers of truth, moments of clarity that have illuminated the path to a different kind of life. You may have walked through shadows of your own, faced moments where the darkness seemed all-consuming.

But I'm here to tell you that there is always a way out. It may not be easy, and it may require more strength than you ever thought you had, but it's there.

The first step is the hardest, but it's also the most important. As you close this letter, as you reflect on the story I've shared, I hope you see the threads of your own life woven through the narrative.

We are all more similar than we think. And if there's one thing I've learned, it's that we all have the capacity to endure, to grow, and to become better people.

It's a journey without end, but it's a journey worth taking. Before I step away, I implore you—if my story has touched you, if you've felt a kinship with my struggles or seen a reflection of yourself in my tale, consider reading the original book "You" by Caroline Kepnes.

It's a masterpiece that delves even deeper into the complexities of human emotions and connections. It will challenge you, provoke you, and perhaps offer you even more insights into the human heart.

As you turn the pages, you'll find a story that's both haunting and enlightening, a narrative that will stay with you long after the final sentence. Take the journey with "You," and who knows? It might just change your life.