Chasing Shadows: Him

The apartment walls had become his only companions. He spoke to them more than to her now, filling a silence heavier than any argument ever was. She moved through the space like smoke, present but untouchable. A glance here, a laugh there, but never for him. Her eyes flickered like broken neon, always darting away, refusing to rest.

Outside, the city roared, traffic, voices, music spilling from late-night bars, but inside, the quiet pressed down on him like a weight. He reached for her in that silence, arms open, words ready, but every time his hands closed on nothing but air. The love they once shared had become an echo, a ghost haunting the places she used to fill.

Still, he stayed. He couldn’t let go, not yet. Each day was another circle, another lap around the track of what they had built. He told himself that if he kept running, maybe he could catch her shadow, pull her back from wherever she had drifted.

At night, neon lights bled through the curtains, flickering against the ceiling. They reminded him of their beginning, how bright it had been, how certain it felt. Her laughter sometimes reached him, close enough to sting, but it belonged to a world he wasn’t part of anymore.

And yet, he chased. Step after step, thought after thought. The more she slipped away, the tighter he held on. The room was empty. She was only a ghost in the air. But he had decided he would stay, there was nothing else to do.

Chasing shadows.
Chasing her.