A watercolored myriad of fiery shades have spread across the horizon. It means that another night filled with twinkling, glittering stars and haunting thoughts has come to a close. My mind is simultaneously empty, yet racing with pasts and presents and futures, as I sit in the dappled shadows. In my head I hold a secret I seldom let others know, and in my heart I hold a heaviness no pen could ever write the words to describe. I wonder what it must be like to live in the mind of another; what thoughts decorate the inner workings of faces displaying masks of vacant expressions, wide smiles, or knotted foreheads. Is it quiet? Or is it always full of shouts, whispers, forgotten promises and halfhearted bargains like mine?I wonder. I wonder what it would be like to not be me. To not sit here in the shadows, but instead sit in the strokes of light. To let my hair turn golden in the sun rather than ashy in the darkness. To welcome the day with open arms rather than cradling them close to my chest lest my heart fall to pieces. To not have this secret occupy so much of my being. To be wholly me.