The first time I saw him was when I was 23.
Actually that's not even true, but that was the first time he stayed.
And he was so close this time.
I had seen him a lot of times when I was younger and still in school.
He visited, but he never came in. He just stared through a window to let me know he was there.

When I was 19 and my boyfriend left me, he showed himself a little more and a longer period of time, after he had left me alone for a few years.

But in that year, when I was 23, he came through the door and stood right in front of me and stared at me.
He didn't even leave for a few days or so.
He just stayed; whatever I was doing and I couldn't even see straight because he was so close.
Sometimes he even hugged me.

Since then he never left completely.
He is always outside my window, waiting to come in.
Before I saw him with me, I had seen him with a few other people.
Lots of people to be completely honest.
But I only knew what he looked like. He was tall, very lean and just pitchblack like the night, like a black cardboard cut-out.
Just like a shadow, he doesn't have a face.
There are not the right words to describe him.

What I didn't know at the time was what it would feel like to be with him.
Since that year I can still see him. With me and with others.
And I can feel how others feel around him.

I wish I wouldn't know how he feels, but I am glad that I can see him with others.
Because there is nothing worse than seeing and feeling him, while people tell you that he is not really there.
It hurts way more than it already does.