Woman on the other side of the window,
The distance that separates us on this street feels like an abyss, a separation that has become wider in these times of confinement. From the first day I saw you, alone at your window, something sparked in me, a feeling of closeness in the midst of imposed solitude.
Every night, I raise my arms in a silent greeting, a gesture that you may be able to perceive among the multitude of windows in this large building. I watch as other windows open to reveal couples, families, children and even pets, but yours remains occupied by a single figure, yours.
Sometimes, minutes pass and you don't appear. In those moments, a restlessness grows within me. I worry, I wish that everything is fine, that your absence is just a small delay in your routines. It's funny how, in the midst of this physical distance, I feel a connection with you. I think of all the people who are alone in their homes, cut off from the smiles and support of neighbors. Perhaps, because I also feel that way in this modern building that, despite its appearance, keeps us apart.
From time to time, I throw a paper airplane toward your window. In my imagination, that little plane carries with it a message, "Hello, I'm glad to see you once again tonight." A feeling of peace comes over me when I see you draw the curtains, open the window and your hands go up to clap.
Neighbor from the building across the street,
Although we don't know each other and may never cross words face to face, I want you to know that there is someone here, across the sidewalk, who is happy to see you at your window every night.