Mr. Depression and Mr. Loneliness

They come upon me all silent and menacing like Pinkerton Detectives, and they flank me - Depression on my left, Loneliness on my right. They don´t need to show me their badges. I know these guys very well. We´ve been playing a cat-and-mouse game for years now. Though I admit that I am surprised to meet them in this elegant Italian garden at dusk. This is no place they belong.

I say to them, "How did you find me here? Who told you I had come to Rome?"

Depression, always the wise guy, says, "What - you´re not happy to see us?"

"Go away," I tell him.

Loneliness, the more sensitive cop, says, "I´m sorry, ma´am. But I might have to tail you the whole time you´re traveling. It´s my assignment."

"I´d really rather you didn´t," I tell him, and he shrugs almost apologetically, but only moves closer.

Then they frisk me. They empty my pockets of any joy I had been carrying there. Depression even confiscates my identity; but he always does that. Then Loneliness starts interrogating me, which I dread because it always goes on for hours. He´s polite but relentless, and he always trips me eventually. He asks if I have any reason to be happy that I know of. He asks....

.....

I walk back home, hoping to shake them, but they keep following me, these two goons. Depression has a firm hand on my shoulder and Loneliness harangues me with his interrogation. I don´t even bother eating dinner; I don´t want them watching me. I don´t want to let them up the stairs to my apartment, either, but I know Depression, and he´s got a billy club, so there´s no stopping him from coming in if he decides that he wants to.

"It´s not fair for you to come here," I tell Depression. "I paid you off already. I served my time back in New York."

But he just gives me that dark smile, settles into my favorite chair, puts his feet on my table and lights a cigar, filling the place with his awful smoke. Loneliness watches and sighs, then climbs into my bed and pulls the covers over himself, fully dressed, shoes and all. He´s going to make me sleep with him again tonight, I just know it.

in, Eat, Pray, Love - Elizabeth Gilbert

Há certos "valentões" que nos perseguem insistentemente e dos quais

dificilmente nos conseguimos livrar. Quando menos se espera, lá estão

eles ao virar da esquina prontos para nos raptar de novo. E por mais que

lutemos há sempre uma parte de nós que se rende à sua força, à sua

implacabilidade, aos seus terríveis encantos...

É uma luta desleal que parece não ter fim... E uma vez estabelecida a

ligação, não podemos esperar que nos esqueçam, pois estarão sempre à

nossa espera. É essa a sua função, é essa a energia que os mantém

vivos...