The Shadow of Love

I enter the room. I have been here before, been with her, but she never invites me. I have to let myself in. Things look different than I remember--she's gained some weight, her hair is different, but I know her well. I have taken her on this journey several times, and I linger around every moment of joy, waiting out of sight for my cue. I am in the dark, for I am the Shadow of Love.

People think I enjoy this journey of pain that I take them on, as if I'm some monster. I am beautiful, if they could only see, but vision is limited in these dark places. There may be a glimpse--an errant beam of light ahead on the path. But they never look at me in those moments--they run on ahead, desperate for the light and the warmth it brings. They never look to see that I bear the face of Love, for I am her Shadow.

This one--she thought she knew me. We have walked this path before, on longer and shorter journeys. She even tempts herself with moments contemplating what life will be like when the ones she loves are gone. The tears she sheds are the pools in my lands, but she hastens to dry them and stop the flow before they can become rivers.

I do not revel in this journey, but I know that it cannot be bypassed. I wait for her, reaching out my hands to touch her, but she shrinks from the shadows I cast. I would show her the resting places--the cool, dark hollows where the heat cannot burn, but she fears the darkness I am cloaked in.

On each journey, she does come to know me better than the time before. In the time we're together, she learns how the road winds, where there are pits and fissures, and which ways are straight. I put my arm over her shoulder, showing her how the depth of my Shadow matches perfectly to the depth of her Love. We are partners, she and I, as much as it pains her to know this. If she wished to be rid of me, she could--I would never darken her door again. But I am the Shadow of Love, and I follow where Love is. If I am gone, she will not love. She will not make that choice, I feel--she is a lover, this one, and she is in too deep. 

My journey with her never really ends. The paths start to meander, the light spreads and the path is easier to tread. But I remain in the shadows, prepared to walk the path again when those moments hit; the light hits just right and she remembers, and the shadow falls and she is with me again. I never leave her, but I love her, for I am the Shadow of Love, and I follow where Love has gone.