A shadow on film

We all live in a darkness of our own making

I open the dusty and long forgotten notebook that always stands by me, I gently stroke its wounds of time and beating, I pick up the pen that is nearly out of ink and try to put my restless thoughts to meaning, to bind them in written words so that they leave my soul and disappear forever.
I want to write to you, who I care for, who I long for, who I hate, who I … I cannot. My hand by its own wish and command stops itself before I even begin the first few syllables. My hope of telling all that is, I guess is not possible for my mind or, apparently, my body.
I want to tell you, you that strange shadow under the lights, so many things that dwell in my heart. I wish to speak to you, to touch you, but how can you touch a shadow? A scary and strange shadow in front of the stars. I see how you dance in frenzy, I know when you are smiling, I can feel when you are lonely, when you are not, and I can sense what you are thinking. A shadow that follows me everywhere and nowhere, only a shadow that makes me a bit jealous when you have a romance. For me you are a dream, I know that reality is not as quite as it seems that it changes all the time according to some law and strange order, but still you cannot, you will not exist in my lonely world. You belong somewhere else, with someone else, with something different. Why those ghosts of yours do not want to leave you alone? Is it fate that brought you here and fate that keeps you at bay? Why are you only a shadow to me? Why are you only a dream? I shall never say that you are the one and only because I do not believe that I even know who you are. But that does not give me peace, in fact it binds me even more, it makes me even lonelier in this cold and dark moment. I know that you will never be mine.
I believe in all that is here, in my small world, not that the real world is as tiny as I tell it, but because we all live in our separate realities that connect only at some few points in time. For one a smile that is seen on someone’s face in the street can mean love or happiness and for others it can represent the loathing and hatred imbued with that new fashion of showing those dark feelings – smugness and irony. Everything is different in all of our worlds, in our closed balloons of truths and lies. So why I cannot understand or even try to except that in your reality all of this is strange and distant to you. That for you the truths that exists in my world is only dim remembered silhouettes in yours. Why do I want to get closer, to find a gateway, a sort of a passage to you? Why do I seek the touch and whispers of a shadow?
Is it really just because what and who you are? Is it that simple and childish? Is it just because you are a spooky boy and I a little girl, a prince and a princess in our own making and thought? I feel you so close to me, but still I want you closer, I wish to make that one final step and touch you without the fear that I cannot, that you will step back. Come just a little closer, so that you can hear my whisper, for you should know what I wish to tell you. I know that you long for such worlds spoken in truth. Come so close so that it would reverberate through the wall that stands between reality and dream, so delicate that it crushes all and can be called only with one simple, but longed by many, word – intimate. Do you dare? Do I dare?
A shadow is only but a shadow; do I really know you that well, which makes it? Would all the connections be severed if I give strength and power to my dreams? Can I possibly hurt you or for you to hurt me? Will I step forward when the moment comes or just stand back because I got just what I wanted? Idiotic. I know what I can give and I know that you, lonely shadow among so many, is all that I want. But do you? Probably not, why should your reality be as mine, even only on this one small subject? Why should it be true that just because I wish for you to be closer you should also want the same? Even now I hear the tearing and howling of the force that cuts through all that connects us. The end of eternity comes closer with every heartbeat and I only yearn for the moment when I become a monster, a creature of darkness, which cannot afford to love or be loved and get rid of the pain and suffering of being human.
But still I want to see your shadow in front of my door and make the dream of seeing that wraith merge with mine and consume me in its blackness real. I know that I can do all that I want, that I have the courage and strength to fight for the things I crave for, but still I want you to be my angle of mercy, my helping shoulder in time of need, my sanctuary, my bliss and contentment, my respite. Those words should not be uttered by some as young as me, they should be spoken softly to a lover, not a shadow, not to you. If but even thought those words will frighten you, make you feel locked in a cage from which you do not know how to escape without hurting your captive. But I am not telling them, I only feel them in my heart. Let me be so brusque and expand my confused thoughts on this pathetic rhetoric. I wish only that one day I could freely speak them out loud to you, I only dream that at some point they will bring nothing but joy and that they will be wanted and be true. Now they are nothing but longings, noting material not even a phantom in my mind. Just a ghost of a chance that it can happen. But can you understand? Can anyone understand the faint hope in my body and maybe, if there is something as this, my soul that one cold winter’s day I can give voice and meaning to those dreams and let them flow without any remorse?
If you step into my abode now what will you think, what would you see? Will you recognize the destruction that you did to me? You should - you left such marks not once in your life…
Why am I scared of the coming day? Why am I frightened of the light that will shine from my window? Why I do not want to hear the ringing of the doorbell or of my phone? Why am I disgusted even at the thought of hearing someone’s footsteps outside my door or voice telling me things I do not want to comprehend?
Because reality, the true one, always eventually catches up to us and destroy all of the petty dreams we create to preserve our fragile minds and makes us forcefully stare at it with open eyes. Every night has its end, every bottle has its limit, every dream stops with our unwilling awakening and the pain that flow and ebbs in our heads and leave us uncovered and alone in front of all that we do not wish to see. That a shadow is just a shadow, that it can only be watched from a distance, that can never be touched or loved, that does not have a purpose, that has no memories or future, that does not give a reason to be hated nor longed for, but still can make the heart pound slightly faster, a shadow that can only be a shadow. And that in the mornings light it would disappear and come back in my flight of fancy with the darkness of night and the soft blanket provided by the ever lonely moon. A shadow that I want to love, but can never truly love me.
But what is love – just a melancholy melody, full only with darkness, at which end there is almost always pain and grief? Does one really need that hatred emotion called pathetically “love” as to undergo through life with the sensation of fulfillment? Oh you sad little wilder beasts dying in the river by the monsters that lurk within. Nothing will stay after us; nothing comes when the final curtain falls. Feelings are irrelevant; yearnings are irrelevant, just the cold reality that you only should fend for yourself and never EVER let silly emotions get in your heart.