She had been living in there rent free for 6 months now. I’d been keeping track of how often she came in and out. It didn’t matter whether or not I wanted her to be, she was there. From the early hours of the morning, till odd hours of night, her presence was always recognisable.
Sometimes she came in screaming her head off about something. Other times she was calm and soft spoken, occasionally humming to a song she had heard on her way back.
6 months is a long time to have an unwelcome neighbour. If I had a say I would do something about it, but there is never anyone around to complain to when you need them. I had tried endless things to get rid of her, but she kept coming back, like she had some sort of right to be there.
I can’t stand freeloaders. People who think they can just impose their presence within your confines, and have the nerve to think they can be there free of charge.
Occasionally I would bring her up in conversation, even though I could see my friends were getting tired of my complaints. What else could I do? If I couldn’t get rid of her I might as well talk about her. Venting never changed the situation but at least it made me feel better. They don’t know what its like to go home and see her there, smiling mischievously with the knowledge that I had no control of the situation.
Even though I had become somewhat accustomed to her occupancy I was in need of space. Moving out was an option I had considered in the beginning, but the truth is I won’t allow myself to give up the life I had built for her.
I knew that one day a time would come when she wouldn’t be there. I would wake up to find the door locked, with a new tenant packed and ready to take her place.
She has been living in my mind for 6 months, 1 day, 17 hours, 6 minutes and counting. I just can’t stop thinking about her.