"You're different than when we met" he said.
I took a moment to think.
"I'm not the girl I was back then. The girl I used to be, I think she's still there deep down inside me. But she's buried under the rubble. She's asleep; asleep or knocked out cold from the pain."
"Then who are you now?" He asked.
"Me? I'm just a shadow of her. An intangible, darker version cast out into the world by the things that fell on her. I feel temporary but also like I'm stuck because I don't know how to save her. I'm not strong enough to pick up the debris and carry her out. I'm not made of enough substance to really touch her and wake her up."
He didn't have anything to say to that.
I think it's because he's felt like a shadow-self for much longer than I have. I think maybe he figured out how to live in that world between worlds. It's ironic; I used to want to wake him up and now all I want is for him to let me fall asleep. Then maybe our shadow-selves could find peace.
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