And she wished that he had stayed.
Because he stained everything. He poured himself all over her life, her loves, her breathing until everything was covered. He submerged himself so deeply that she could never wash him off. He touched her more than a kiss, he touched her life; he touched her dreams, her work and her loves. He tattooed his name on her tongue, etched his face in her eyes and his smell could never quite be washed from her clothes. He was waiting next to her on the train platform. He chased her down those familiar streets. She found him sitting in her favourite restaurants. She tried her best to escape, but even the music which bled into her ears couldn’t drown out his swirling intonation. She locked the door behind her, but he still let himself in. He lay down by her side as she tried to rest her weary head. As she slept, his fingers pressed circles in her back and no matter how many switches she hit, she could not put out the dark glimmer in his eyes.
He haunted her so deeply and profusely, she did not know when she would be free. He had left his mark on her, and his bitter ink sunk so deeply within her that she didn’t know if she would ever be clean again.