I’m not sad. I’ve repeatedly told myself that. But she’s always with me, when I’m with friends or alone.
Little sadness in her pretty blue dress, staring at me with her big brown eyes. There’s nothing menacing or haunting about her, just heartbreaking.
She doesn’t say a word, doesn’t make a sound. Just sits there. So I ignore her sometimes. But I can feel her lingering presence, like a dark cloud that came out of no where.
We weren’t like this before. Yes, we’ve crossed each other on the road several times, but we’ve always exchanged a polite smile or sometimes even a chat, nothing more.
But this feels different. She’s moved into my house, a roommate I never asked for. She’s there in the middle of the night, asking to be comforted. I would’ve if I only knew how to. But I don’t, so we sit there in the living room with the glare of the television flashing.
Maybe one day she’ll move on, one day this gloom will lift. But she’s here now. Holding my hand and waiting to be noticed.
So I open the door for her, she gets out of the car and walks into the house.
I follow her. She goes to the couch sits down and cries.
I do too.