Departure

The girl, after a stay that seemed it would last forever, left the building seven days ago; I just noticed her absence, though. She already knew she wasn´t welcome anymore but she kept coming around anyway. I never knew her reasons and never dared to ask, for I thought it wouldn't do any good. I can assure she tried to draw all my attention to her but I just neglected her for a long while. She finally got tired and then couldn't stand it anymore.

At the beginning she used to come up with nonsensical arguments just to tease me, as if trying to make me see she was still alive and around. I guess I received several odd postcards from her everytime she went abroad. It makes up for six. She used to send me petty souvenirs monthly, on the very third week, just to let me know she would come over and stay a few days. At the beginning I didn't want to get them since I never wanted her as a pen pal. On the first time I believed she had only sent me that by chance, thence I didn't make a big deal of it. But chance never falls twice on the same place and she sent life signals for the second time. Her committment happened to be more scary, for she did it quite punctually. If I never wrote her back, why did she then bothered to look for me?

As months went on her letters came in oddly coloured envelopes. Her speech was somehow cryptic and I never managed to read between the lines. Her innuendos formed shapes I had never seen and I thought I would never make any sense out of them. Everytime I looked at the calendar for the due date I wondered what her next "present" would look like, in which way she would arrive, and how long she would stick around. Why did she come if I never called her? What was it she wanted from me?

Did she ever expect me to requite her or did she only do it just to make me remember she was still out there? Be as it may I never thought of any sort of response because I didn't want anything to do with her. On the last due dates I went out not to receive any message from her, but in the course of the day I discovered the extent of her hold. Every message I thought I had dodged reached me: if I got off the train, if I climbed the next to last floor of a skyscrapper, if I went anywhere I believed I could find shelter, she found me--did she ever stalk me all that long? I don't know but the harder I tried to break away, the tighter her grip became.

But one day, when I managed to read the foreword of her arrival I decided to prevent it. I filled the room in which she had stayed all this long to the ceiling and then locked it out. If she ever sent anything I never got it, for, as soon as she arrived I went out because I didn't want to be there when she found out I would never allow her to stay anymore. Meanwhile I was totally spaced out and managed to forget her for several days until now. On her way out she might have even seen all her letters and gifts I put in a bin next to the sidewalk gutter. I hope she didn't get quite mad.

She should have left since long ago. It would have been a lot easier had she managed to read my signs. This time I expect not to hear about her again.