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Description
The world never stops to notice you. Everything simply goes on, the constant pulse of beating hearts never ceasing. Your shadow stretches out before you, and people step through it, barely noticing you are there.

To them, you are merely another body. Another object that is blocking the sunlight. Simply another human face, another dull pair of eyes, another silent mouth. You are insignificant.

And that is only if they bother to glance down at you as they stride by. To most, you are only an object in the way of their single selfish destination. They step around you, stomping on your shadow as they go.

He told you he loves you. You hope and hope that he is telling the truth, but always, inside of you, no matter how close you are to believing... there is always that tiny, flighty bird of doubt caged in your heart.

You repeat and you repeat his words in your head until they get caught up in your dreams, and then tangled amongst your nightmares where they don't belong. You wipe your eyes, hoping to erase the images, but they still flash back into your sight throughout the day. Steal away the moment, insert a fake memory. You begin to wish that you had believed his words in the first place.

But still, you think, as the people walk. Mere seconds later, years down the line. To him, you could have been only another human face, an object in the way. Had he hesitated to cross the street as a child, he could have been somewhere entirely different today.

Circumstances. The way they are. You look up at the people as they pass you, and somewhere, in the back of your mind, you realize that you won't remember them, just as they won't remember you. Dull eyes, silent mouth. It's all hopeless, impersonal, saddening. Until he walks by, and notices your shadow, for once.

He loves you.

Description
The world never stops to notice you. Everything simply goes on, the constant pulse of beating hearts never ceasing. Your shadow stretches out before you, and people step through it, barely noticing you are there.

To them, you are merely another body. Another object that is blocking the sunlight. Simply another human face, another dull pair of eyes, another silent mouth. You are insignificant.

And that is only if they bother to glance down at you as they stride by. To most, you are only an object in the way of their single selfish destination. They step around you, stomping on your shadow as they go.

He told you he loves you. You hope and hope that he is telling the truth, but always, inside of you, no matter how close you are to believing... there is always that tiny, flighty bird of doubt caged in your heart.

You repeat and you repeat his words in your head until they get caught up in your dreams, and then tangled amongst your nightmares where they don't belong. You wipe your eyes, hoping to erase the images, but they still flash back into your sight throughout the day. Steal away the moment, insert a fake memory. You begin to wish that you had believed his words in the first place.

But still, you think, as the people walk. Mere seconds later, years down the line. To him, you could have been only another human face, an object in the way. Had he hesitated to cross the street as a child, he could have been somewhere entirely different today.

Circumstances. The way they are. You look up at the people as they pass you, and somewhere, in the back of your mind, you realize that you won't remember them, just as they won't remember you. Dull eyes, silent mouth. It's all hopeless, impersonal, saddening. Until he walks by, and notices your shadow, for once.

He loves you.