Standing in the middle of a crowd, in the middle of this city, I feel like a simple shadow.
Glanced at, barely recognizable, indistinguishable, a walk by, a dot, something so unimportant, each glance is inadvisable. A shadow in this world makes no difference, and once the world goes dark, I am no longer there. People walk by, I am seen, but virtually invisible.
Some days I crave to remake this life, these choices, these steps walked, each decision that got me to this exact moment in time and space.
Maybe I would have made better choices.
I know what you’re saying, and if I was still praying, I’d probably believe it too. “Trust me, you won’t be a shadow forever!” And “this too, shall pass.”
But see, my words come out all jumbled, and I never say the right thing. I sometimes stumble when I walk… trip over giant nonexistent boulders, that sort of thing. Do you see me? Yes, I’m here. Maybe my voice isn’t loud enough. Maybe that stranger ran into me because I didn’t say excuse me. Or maybe I’m just walking through bear country, quieter than a mouse, creating this fake illusion, of a shadow unseen.
But I hide when people see me, and run in the other direction when there’s a simple connection. Like there’s a misfire between my thoughts, my mouth, and my soul.
I’m tired of standing still, waiting for the sun to warm me, waiting for this shadow to become tangible. I’m tired of crying, of lying, of this feeling of slowly dying.
If you see me, will you take my hand? I long to feel the tingle of your embrace, and I am so exhausted from running this lonely race.