Having my husband’s cousin here is making me feel on edge; I can’t shake this uneasy feeling whenever he’s around. From the very first night, there was something about him that unsettled me. He doesn’t seem to have done anything outwardly wrong, but there’s an energy he brings into the house that feels invasive, like he’s a shadow in the corners, quietly observing.

It started with small things. I’d walk into a room, and he’d already be there, sitting silently or staring off as though deep in thought—yet his gaze would quickly find me, lingering a bit too long. Sometimes he’d offer a thin smile, but it felt hollow, as if he were reading me rather than acknowledging me. I’ve tried to ignore it, telling myself I’m overthinking, that it’s just my nerves from having an unfamiliar presence in the house. But as the days pass, the tension in the air becomes almost tangible.

There are moments when I catch him standing in the hallway, perfectly still, or glancing into rooms with an intensity that feels intrusive. He doesn’t ask for much or engage deeply in conversation, yet his quiet presence feels like a constant weight. Even the everyday tasks, like cooking or folding laundry, feel different. It’s as though he’s always watching, observing in a way that’s hard to articulate but impossible to ignore.

I’ve tried to mention it to my husband, suggesting that perhaps his cousin seems… “different.” He just shrugs it off, saying I’m overthinking and that his cousin has always been “a bit quiet.” But it’s more than quietness that unnerves me; it’s an awareness, a sense of being observed, even in the most mundane moments.

Every night, I breathe a little easier once he’s in his room, behind closed doors, and I find myself counting down the days until he leaves. I just want to feel relaxed and free in my own home again, to shake off this feeling of unease that has taken up residence along with him. Until then, I’ll keep my distance, stay aware, and wait for the moment when I can reclaim my space and my peace.