I see you a distance away.

It is hard to catch up to you.

You're a figure so finely made - like carefully chiselled marble; like the tiny chips of wood cut out from the husks of trees, words of the heart carved in by experienced, worn-out fingers; like the capillaries snaking out a pattern across a tiring heart's frame, feeding it strength to press on.

You're a figure so finely made, it is hard to catch up to you.

Even when we kiss and hold each other close; even when we thread our fingers together to feel the pulse in our hands; even when we whisper promises of love in each other's ears, you are unreachable.

I am but a mere shadow in the woods. Trailing behind you. A silhouette made by pieces of others strung together to form coherence that does not even exist.

I am not clear; my point cannot be put across in any way other than blurted-out declarations and dusty blushes.

No matter how I try to follow you, you're always a step ahead of me.

We are connected, yes, but I am only visible when you step in the light. Then again, who notices the dark spot behind you when you're the centre of attention?

I laugh when you tell me you love me. I am just a mere shadow, a spot created by the absence of light. Why would you love me, what do you love about me-

-but then a human always seeks to find a "because" for every thing they are not sure about. A human cannot be satisfied with their answers; they must seek solace in more reasons for every new thing placed in their hands. No matter what, they are never content with a single "because" or any other answer. They must ask, why, what, when, why, how, who, what, when, who, how.

So I keep quiet. You must find me a nuisance for my thoughts - the ones that buzz noisily when we sit in bed together - the ones that seem to catch your attention even though they are screaming in my head, and my head alone.

But you always say you do not find me a nuisance. You always say it is okay, it is fine, that you are okay with providing a "because" for every "why" the insatiable human being with a heavy mind - that is me - asks.

You always say that you are, however, not fine with me being a shadow clinging to your feet. Of course, I understand; would anyone truly want a poorly pieced-together puzzle of a silhouette sticking to their back?

You say that you want me to stand with you. You say you do not want me to think of myself as just a silhouette or a shadow. You say you love me for who I am - a human who has breathed life into you when you needed it most.

However, as human and alive as I am, there is no denying that I am just a dark place behind you. You are magnificent - like nothing else in the world. You are beautiful, wonderful, gorgeous, breathtaking-

-but I am not a human standing on the same level as you.

I am a shadow whose existence depends on you.

How you could speak the words "I love you" into my face is truly astounding.

I see you right in front of me.

It is easy to catch up to you.

But I cannot.

I am not fit to be standing next to you.

I am but a light-deprived dirt patch lying behind you, bound to your feet as you swim through the light dancing around us.

It is, in the end, hard to catch up to you.

I do not see you any more.