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O doutor me encarou, com dois olhos firmes e rasgos orientais, e sério me disse:

-Eu só vejo uma tristeza profunda em ti. Não há nada fisicamente errado contigo. Posso te receitar anti-depressivos para te ajudar a passar por este momento de perda.

E eu, pequena, com frio e descalça, embaralhada pelas vozes estranhas que vinham do corredor, confusa pela dor física que sentia, e com as notícias de que eu estava bem, retorqui ao calçar meu sapatos:

-Muito obrigada. Eu vou sentir o que tiver que sentir. Não quero os remédios.

E pensando estar pronta para viver a tua perda, peguei minha bolsa e meus papéis e ao sair dali, sozinha e com olheiras permanentes, continuei descortinando o mundo da orfandade.

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