I am not a very interesting person.
I never came first in a race. I never came top of my class. I never won an award. I never pushed to the front. I never tried to be noticed. I never succeeded. I was never the best dressed. I was never ahead of the pack. I was never first to be served. I was never a guy's first choice. I was never a girl's first choice. I was never the favourite. I was never remembered. I was never the first to know. I was never the earliest. I was never the latest. I was never mysterious. I never had the best haircut. I never had the worst haircut. I never slept with a virgin. I was never special. I was never called beautiful. I was never called upon to help.
I never made an impact. You probably went to school with me. You only vaguely remember though, maybe if you saw my face in a grainy old photo, you might be able to recall my name- but more than likely you wouldn't. You didn't Dislike me. You just don't remember me. I wasn't your first love or the ugly kid with glasses that you bullied mercilessly for four years. I just sat quietly, out of the way, getting on with things. We may have played together, outside on those long, dusty summer afternoons when you were so young that a day felt like it lasted for eternity. The sun would beat down on your freckled shoulders hot enough to burn, but back then, nobody called social services if you did. We would play hopscotch and marbles and tag and all those other normal childhood games that everybody remembers fondly.
Does that jog your memory?
I thought not. You had fun with me back then, but it was nothing special. The memory of me isn't precious to you. Nor should it be. I didn't really care too much for you either.
Or maybe I sat at the desk next to yours on your first 'proper' job. Sometimes I would do the coffee run, if I was asked by Nina from the second floor. You remember Her. The girl with legs so long she could have been part giraffe. And that shirt! So tight it was practically a miracle she was still breathing at the end of the day. But as for me? I sat next to you for two whole years, tapping away quietly on my keyboard. I went to every office party. I watched you knock back the free bubbly until you were brave enough to scurry off to the stationary cupboard with Nina in tow. You had one of those party hats shaped like an upside-down ice-cream cone on. It was red with a gold stripe. And when you came out of the cupboard, (to a round of drunken applause) it had tilted to one side like you were some sort of comical pirate. You remember That party. But you don't recall that I was there.
I am a shadow.
I never thought that I would ever be anything more than that. Existing on the outside of everyone else's lives. Watching. Waiting. And I never asked for anything more. I chose not to be like you. I chose not to show off. I chose not to make the effort. I was happy to observe whilst life sped by me, longing for the day when I could finally shut the door and never set a foot outside it again.
But then, something happened.
And this is where my story begins.
