Letters from the Beyond

The Ship That Never Came

Sometimes, I feel like a spectator of my own existence, a shadow among the living, forgotten and ignored by those who walk the path of life.

Abandoned for a lifetime, left behind by everyone. My life is a total loss, an endless void, a silence in which I slowly fade away. It seems that my presence has never mattered to anyone, that I am invisible in this noisy world filled with others who thrive. That is the truth.

I have tried to connect, to understand, to belong to this cold and distant world, but around me, I found only stone, emptiness, and insurmountable walls. The cold wraps around me, paralyzes me, and I remain there, watching from afar.

I have always been behind the window, a silent witness to the lives of others, lives that unfold while mine finds no place. I have watched others move through the stages of their lives, while I was never granted my own experience.

All the stages I should have lived through, I left behind. I spent my life waiting for a chance, for a moment that would never come. I do not exist, or perhaps I am mocked, as if I had no right to live, to feel, to be part of this world.

I am a stranger here, a misunderstood being, a solitary soul. My gestures are viewed with suspicion, my dreams are rejected, my hopes swept away. I am seen as something suspicious, different, strange.

And so, my life flows slowly, while I remain frozen, a spectator of others' stories. They move through the stages of their lives, they move forward, they experience. And I am here, in the bay, waiting for a ship that will never come, waiting for a departure that will never happen, hoping one day to launch myself into the current of my own existence.