Shadow

The returning of spring holds sunny memories for me. The smell of the air takes me back to the campouts, that lasted weeks instead of days, in my back yard. Sunshine was so sweet, thinking back. A good rain was the highlight of our days, one that was best taken advantage of by dropping everything and sprinting out into the downpour and returning sopping wet, smiling. It was perfect in all, as many would say, and as others have described such kinds of memories. It was just me and my shadow. And that's all I needed.

Those memories are all I have left, though, and I am mourning my shadow. Like so much I once knew, that sunny, but secretive, elusive almost, beautiful shadow has faded into one I do not know. Somehow, my shadow ran away, escaped. I'm mourning my beloved shadow, because when she left, I almost stopped caring.

When she left, she took a part of me with her, and I will never get it back. And I was left with nothing of her except glimpses of the shadow she once was, and some old clothes she left behind. I once slept with those clothes because they still smelled like her, just so I felt closer.

They don't smell like her anymore. And it breaks my heart to know I don't have that little piece of her--who she was. I don't feel close to her--I don't feel safe--I don't feel the light that was her. I surround myself with pain, because I feel that's all I have left of her.

But I still love my shadow,
the one that once was,
will always be, mine.
My Shadow.