I didn't. I couldn't.
And unless both do so, a connection, though it may be faint and no more than a fragile thread, remains. A one-sided, unfair exchange. I sense you, but you can't me.
You wanted nothing more to do with me, and yet your shadow still comes to visit. At odd times. Your shadow keeps irregular hours. It comes when I'm quietly reading, gazing vacantly at a distant point, washing my hair, or just as I'm about to drift into the land of sleep. Your shadow slips in thinking I won't know it's there, but I always feel its presence. Its unmistakable breath. A noticeable cool breeze.
Other times, it will plant a thought and your name will enter my brain with an elastic band snap or a bubble gum pop like Batman fighting evil in Gotham City. KAPOW!
Once upon a time, I could have been your Robin, your sidekick, but by the time you realised that it was too late. And so now your shadow stealthily calls in. Drops by, hangs out. Flutters pages as I read or wafts a chill breeze around my face, feet and hands. My fingers are like icicles, my toes cubes of ice. I no longer feel around my flat for draughts or air pockets like I used to do because I know it's only you. You seem to have this need to check in from time to time, but refuse to acknowledge this truth to yourself on a human level.
You and I are twin souls; pearls from the same single strand. Did you know that?
I should have cut the cord when I threatened I would. I haven't.
Why didn't I? I tried...
I censored thoughts. I archived evidence of your being. I did everything I could, bar the one thing I knew I should. Cut the damn cord! The string that ran from my throat to yours, that tethered me to you like a bobbing kite.
I couldn't bring myself to do it. To close the window to my soul completely. I don't know how you could. How you could cut your cord and tie a sailor's knot. Do you regret it?
I like to think so, but probably not. I was TROUBLE. A vortex of conflicting emotions. You could never have helped me to untangle them; at times, you unwittingly aggravated them. Unseen, I would erupt. The fiery passionate nature that my family know me for would come to the fore, bounce off the walls of my flat, and then descend into Churchill's black dog of depression.
Why should you have to deal with that?
Nobody should have to deal with that.
Fear holds me back and I let it. There's safety in fear and singularity. Surely you realise that?
What the soul wants isn't so simple to perform. The human in each of us pulls our strings. Goes against what our soul really wishes or ignores the lessons we've come here to learn.
Severing human-to-human communication dispelled that odour of fear. The air became fragrant and spring-like. The darkness disbanded. Now I wouldn't, I couldn't fail you. I couldn't be rejected like a misshapen mannequin.
But dismissing your shadow was a step too far. I didn't want to cut and burn like you like a cancerous tumour from my life, although I know I might have made it seem that way. I had to. I was never going to slice the cord all the way through as if I was slitting the neck of a stunned beast. I don't mind the sight of blood, but it's not in me to be the one to shed it.
We're the same you and I.
Picture Credit: Peter Francis
