"I love you" said The Shadow. And with tears in her eyes and pain in hervoice, Peter said "I love you."

 

He's in love with me ya know? He always has been. Head over heels, I can't begin to imagine why.

No one knows I let him stay around. They all forgot about him a long time ago. Figured I'd grow out of it I guess. But he's my shadow, and I'm his Peter.

Somewhere in between pain and innocence he appeared. He filled the hole in my young heart, and that's where he's been ever since.

He played with me on the playground when no one else would.

They called me ugly at school, and he wiped the tears from my eyes.

"Keep your chin up captain, they don't see who I see."

And with that he'd hand me a dandelion and I'd be lost in those bright eyes.

We tied each time we played tic-tac-toe, and marshmallows melted faster when he made hot chocolate. It was magic and so was he.

When my family left their seats empty, his eyes watched me from the crowd. It was always his applause I heard from backstage.

Real friends change, and leave. So I found no harm in keeping him. He didn't want to leave, and I didn't let him.

Our summer sanctuaries and winter wonderlands set with the sun, and we out grew our club house.

But he was there to hold my hair at the high school party. And he helped me smile through my tear stained makeup.

I'd rest my head on his shoulder and he'd read to me, from books, and plays; and if I was lucky he'd tell me the story of us.

"I'll move to California, and become a fighter pilot. You'll stay, saving them all with your words. We will find each other, when the times right." he'd wink and tell me "you can't change what's meant to be."

He'd find me in my dreams, and save me from my nightmares.

And when other boys left me on the side of the road, cold and alone. He was there.

I push him away, and let pieces of people take up his space. But he is never far behind me.

His footsteps have always echoed mine, even in the lonely places.

He taught me how to tie noose knots, and he hid all the chairs.

The broken pieces of my souls made sense in his hands. He bled, just to put me back together.

He says my scars are beauty marks, and I worry that I'm not the only one with a wild imagination.

Growing up means letting go but I'm just not ready.

He takes my headphones out when I fall asleep, and he makes sure the covers are over my feet.

And no one else can see him. Not the way I do. But that's the way it's always been.

He holds my hand when I'm scared.
He calms my nerves with a smile.
He sings at the top of his lungs to drown out my parents fighting.
He lets me fall asleep.

Listen, I don't expect you to get it. Or to see him. I'm not liar. I promise.

I know him.

And no matter what the say, he is real.
 
To me.