A Letter From Your Shadow

I am not entirely human, nor will I ever be. I am just a spot on the sidewalk on a sunny day. An observer of your life, but never truly living it.

And here I am to tell you that I see you. I have seen every version of yourself. I have witnessed it all as my own, but never truly owned any of it.

I know how you looked when you were a child, when you played on the ground and made new friends simply by asking if they wanted to play with you.

I know who you became as a teenager — self-conscious and hidden in oversized hoodies, listening to loud music to drown out your thoughts. Drinking stolen alcohol, thinking it made you cool, hoping to be noticed, hoping to be accepted for the loud, weird version of yourself.

And then you grew up…

You got kisses I only witnessed but never felt the warmth of. Hugs, love, support — people standing beside you while you searched for your place under the sun. And through it all, I remained nothing more than a black patch behind your back.

You never looked back, you know. Never noticed me the way I noticed you. Never asked if I wanted to live too. To be part of it. To be alive.

So the next time the sun hides and everything is buried in the darkness where I live, I will take your place.

I will live your life as my own, and I will never give you the warmth, the love, the people, or the place under the sun that you had. From now on, you will only observe.

I don’t do it because I am cruel. I do it because it is finally my turn.

My turn to play in the sun. To dance on the stage. To make decisions that impact lives. To be someone.

I hope the dark suits you. I made it the perfect shape for you.