Ever since that day, one of deep sorrow and numbing trauma, A truly heart breaking day, I have always been the kind of person who saw sadness as his natural mood. It feels like I've been walking in the shadow of a dream about my memory f that day. Yet, I do not feel incomplete or a shell of my former self. I see my former self as one that was progressing towards my current self. It is nothing more than a half-forgotten fragmented past. One lived on another life by another person. I am me, one who feels that happiness is a concept that I am never truly able to go beyond than merely touching upon, grasping it being merely a dream that I feel not worth chasing. It is good, but not something that will give me content-ness. What I am gives me some feelings of content; perhaps that is my happiness.

I do not see myself smiling nor do I see myself with (in my opinion) pointless glee and enthusiasm. I see myself in darkness within the comforting colour of black, wandering alone in silence or hush, lost in thoughts within an atmosphere of blissful melancholy. Through it I feel life and time flow slower, each touch and emotion all the more savoury as it hangs in slow-motion like a calm before a storm upon the strike of the speed up of reality.

Oh yes...I walk within the shadow of my memory of the day I was rejected by my first love and I feel proud to be as if to prove that "I" am a testament to my feelings for her and an appreciation of the feelings of my ice daggered sadness that showed me my way.

But tell me...would you still like me if I ever smiled? If I jumped and skipped instead of trudged and strolled? If my eyes were filled with bright lighted warmth instead of a passionate hidden fire that only people like you can ever see beyond my cold hesitant stare?

If I became a person that was someone different to the person you saw as "me" would you still like me?

I know I would if I knew that I loved you.