Sweet, Sweet Shade Epitaph. The morning of August 16th, 1994, I awoke with a fever and an air of uncertainty. This is a feeling all people experience. Something in the air just didn’t feel right; whether it was heavy or more damp than normal is up to the breathing ones. For all those who come past, my name is (or was) Angel Pauw. I’ll recount my day precisely as it should’ve happened, precisely as it did happen, precisely why it was wrong. For a long while I’d been on a streak of bad luck. Layoffs, mourning, foreclosure, etc. List goes on. One morning I awoke to a strange sensation: no pain in the hip, chipper, enough energy to steamroll a vacant house. One morning I awoke to a similar, dull entry. Pain in the hip, sad, so tired I would’ve rather slept for another two days. I took a step out of bed, stretching (the kind that activates the para-sympathetic nervous system) and began walking to my shower. I took a step out of bed, stretching (the kind that only makes you hurt worse) and began stumbling to the shower. Once stripped, I noticed my skin had been more clear than ever, nearly (albeit not literally) glowing amongst the filament-aided light. Though I had no physical partner of my own, the running, long hot showers were certainly a welcome hug into an already cold world. The water didn’t seem to cast a dark shadow today, how unfortunate. Afterwards, spending the average (if not considered too long) amount of time drying and styling my hair. Despite everything so far, it turned out pretty nice. I opened the curtain to the blinding, glorious shade of a dull construction site. “Another amazing day” I hadn’t thought. I started styling an outfit. Since it was rather cold outside, I contemplated wearing a sweater, though I found it meaningless. Eventually settling on the same thing as every other day, I began walking outside, taking in the beautifully dull grey sky. Onwards I went to a get-together my (semi) friend Laura strung together at a local coffee place. How exciting. The sun opened from behind the grey clouds, shining its terrible smile upon the earth. I glanced, only to notice my shadow wasn’t as dark today. How odd, I didn’t truly care to think. The day dragged on until I reached the destination of my trek, the only reason to leave the house. I went inside, smiling, laughing, grimacing at the festival. We began to speak quietly enough that no one could hear. “Oh, Angel! I’m so glad you could make it.” She said, hiding a sinister undertone, surely. “How are you and Andrew doing?” Oh. That’s right. Forgot to mention the breakup. “Well, we-” “Oo~ Don’t tell! First let’s talk about that outfit!” So preppy. So fake. So underwhelming. “I tried to make a modern-” “You have got to show me how to cut shirts like that.” Copy of a copy of- “Oh, sure. It’s not that hard, actually-” “Your assets are on fleek.” So weird, so disgusting, so backhanded. Why was I smiling? “Thanks, Laura.” The meaningless patter of happy voices rang on for another forty-or-so minutes. Our day began to drift apart from each other, we prepared to say goodbye and enjoy the rest of it. I gallivanted outside, basking in the now grey clouds again. Walking back towards my house from the city, I ran into an old friend: a payphone. With a smile on my face and little to nothing in my heart, I went inside with some loose change. The crash of the buttons sounded ten times in rapid succession, forging forward with no sign of stopping. “Angel? Is that you?” he said, knowing I would always call on Tuesdays after going to the cafe. “Listen, I-” “Honey, I get it. We all need space sometimes.” He could never get it, never understand. “I wanted to say that you’re-” “Sweetie, it’s okay. Sometime when you’re feeling better we should-” Line closed. Bam. Done. I stood for a minute inside the booth, gazing at the beautiful sunny sky, thinking about what I should’ve said. How odd, I didn’t care to think; that when I was inside the phone booth, the shadow casted by it wasn’t as dark today. I smiled, sincerely, full of malice and anger. The door swung open, a man frantically trying to shove past me. “I’m sorry lady, but I’ve gotta get in here now!” I didn’t ask who (or why) he was calling who he was. I closed the door gently so as not to disturb their conversation. I walked up the streets further to the bell tower, taking a busy road across. I walked up to the amazing and magnificent bell tower, sitting down to write about the worst parts of my day. The air was so nice, crisp and enjoyable I almost fell asleep out of boredom. How odd, I didn’t care to think; that when I was next to the bell tower, its shadow didn’t seem as dark today. After a slow, enduring tender moment of hating the world, I began making my way back to my house. Surely I’d left the lights off, just as they should be. I walked across a busy road, thinking to myself how destructive these cars must be for the world. I got to the middle of the road, stopping for the cars when I noticed something rather odd. Something so beautifully disturbing and viscerally poetic that I had paused for the longer than needed. How odd, I thought; that I wasn’t displaying any shadow. I started testing this phenomena and was almost pulverised by a moving steele deathtrap. Nothing immediate was happening, so I continued the venture home, making it back right before dusk. I walked inside, smelling the air freshener. Shut the door and heard Nirvana playing over the radio, calming. I heard a voice echo from my bedroom, startling me a little, if not for the voice being familiar. “So, how’d it go?” The thing said snively, knowing the answer already. “Pretty well, for all things considered.” “Well, come on in and lay down. It’s been a hard day.” “I think I’ll be up for a while. Maybe watch a movie.” “A… You haven’t done that in months!” “I’ve been feeling pretty good all in all.” “But, you need me! You need me as much as I need you.” “I’m sure on some level, but not right now.” Suddenly the voice stopped, I turned a light on. Taking my whole outfit off, going to just blanket, bra and panties: I queued the movie “Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan”. I had been trying to catch up on that series, after Laura had said I should try it. At first I thought it was really cheesy, boring and annoying; yet I’ve come to enjoy the charm of the flawed effects. Eventually falling asleep on the couch, I woke up the next morning with a desire to go out. I took a shower, did my hair, makeup, the whole nine yards and went out the door. While walking to the city’s bowling alley, I ended up running into my old friend Pat, who happened to be with Laura and Jill. I walked towards them without a second thought in my mind, no holds barred, no raised fists. The day went by quickly, sharing laughs, enjoying the air, proverbially stargazing. Dusk had come so fast I almost forgot to get home. I bid them adieu and started my journey once more across the city. Once arriving at the same street from yesterday, I made my way quickly and without stopping for any sightseeing or imaginative feelings. On the way back, I checked what I’d written yesterday at that bell tower. Subconsciously I had copied down a phrase from John Masefield’s “Sea Fever” “All I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by.” I entered through the front door, only to see something odd: the lights were on. I checked around inside yet there were no signs of tampering, other than the freshly made bed. I went outside, checking around the house, seeing if there were any signs of struggle; nothing. However, when admiring dusk, I noticed something more odd than any of that: The shadow I was casting was quite dark today. “The shadow proves the existence of something living. Something tangible that nothing else compares to. There are always light-givers and light-takers. People designed to put you down, to make you feel unwelcome. People designed to lift you up, to make you feel welcome. The feeling of depression is something not many people can understand unless they too have been afflicted. Some people respond nicely, some people respond angrily, some people respond by giving up. The horror of the reality is that the person’s shadow begins to give way, slowly erasing them from the world, whether it be isolation or becoming someone else. From moment to moment it can vary, some things setting off intense reactions while things that shouldn't. Most people living with depression will tell you they’re fine, that they don’t need any help. That they’re holding steady. You keep saying that enough until they no longer hear from you, thinking you’re helping yourself. The other sad truth is that most people want help but are too scared or embarrassed to ask for it, thinking it will show they’re weak. Some people want an easy way out, whether that be death or longing. If any of this sounds like you, dearest reader: you are not alone. I know personally no words can help and comparisons do nothing but make you feel worse; please know that this world, wherever & whoever & whatever you might be, wants you in it.” ~Evenstar. “All I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by.” ~John Masefield