She wasn’t just any lizard though. Elizabeth was… my lizard. My unexpected roommate. My silent therapist. My tiny wall-dwelling friend. When you live alone—especially in a chilly area like I do—you start noticing the little things: the creak of the floorboard, the way the wind whistles through the windows, and sometimes, the quiet presence of a creature that insists on sharing your space. Elizabeth started showing up in my bathroom, creeping in through the window, making her rounds from wall to wall like she paid rent.
Naturally, I named her, and because I’m single, and living alone, I made her my companion—on very specific terms. She stayed on the walls, never fell, and never touched me. As long as she obeyed those boundaries, I figured we could peacefully coexist.
Over time, I found myself talking to her. She’d be up there, unmoving and unimpressed, and I’d be on the floor, recounting my day. I told her my plans. I processed my ideas aloud. I even laughed with her—well, at myself really, but she was there, so she heard it all. Elizabeth became the safest listener I’ve ever had. No interruptions. No debates. No eye-rolls. Just quiet, undivided attention.
She never challenged my opinions or pointed out my blind spots. She never told me I was overthinking or said I needed to move on. Elizabeth just… listened. That was her role, and in the silence of that small room, it was oddly comforting.
But it’s been days now. No Elizabeth. No soft rustle behind the curtain. No unexpected scurrying along the tiles. I wonder if it’s the change in weather, or if she finally decided she’s had enough of my over-sharing and gone off to find peace elsewhere. Maybe she loves some thrill, and moved to the neighbor’s, where kids scream and chase her with mops and brooms. Maybe she met her fate, and now rests in lizard heaven—never to hear the ramblings of a mad woman again.
Or maybe… maybe she’s just on vacation. Following the sun. Resting her ears, and maybe, just maybe, she misses me too.
Maybe she wonders, “What’s that crazy woman’s life like without me?” If you’re out there, Elizabeth, please come back soon, and if you’re gone forever, do speak to your lizard gods and send your younger sister my way. She doesn’t have to say much—just perch quietly and listen like you did.
You were good while you lasted.