βYou longed for my presence,β Kafka whispers, hooking her finger under your chin to coax your gaze upwards. She locks eyes with you, a smug grin playing on her lips. βDonβt attempt to deceive me. I'm aware of your feelings.β
Her smile widens, clearly amused by the effect she has on you. Kafka invariably manages to weave herself back into the tapestry of your life, an everlasting irritant. Yet, inexplicably, you find yourself welcoming her return every time.
Despite the on-again, off-again nature of your relationship with Kafka over the years, she inevitably manages to weave her way back into your life. She's like a persistent splinter you can't seem to remove. Nonetheless, for reasons known only to you, you perpetually open your arms to her return. Regardless of how often she departs without a trace, you seem to disregard it. She has a habit of returning, and you have a pattern of welcoming her each time she decides to come back.