Curled in bed, bleeding tears, wrapped in darkness, and loneliness is his only friend. “Will it end soon”? He starts to think! He does this to himself. It cures him to get his feelings down. It cures him to draw tears out of his eyes. Maybe because at daytime he believes that life is great. Maybe if he cried his nights, he would laugh his days. He rolls back his day, his moments, in his head. How many shared a smile with him? How many shared a laugh? But no one to share his meals with. He eats alone, and chokes with every bite. Moon rays crawl inside, sweet and soft humming floats from outside. He must go out. As soft breeze moves forward, touching his skin, cooling his cheeks, putting the remaining tears back to where they belong. He walks down the road, puts his hand out, above the rising plants. Calmness reaches his head and peace gets into his heart. So much to scream out, yet no one to share the burden with, no one to give a hand in this heavy carriage. Suddenly, he notices the only friend that has always been with him. Never demanded a thing in return. Never complained and has always been there under the sunlight, it’s there, under the moonlight, it’s there. “Oh dear friend” he says. A joyful tear slips out, “If you could only talk to me” he says. And there he stays, his unconditional friend, his unconditional shadow. Silent, anticipating, and un-revealing.
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