We share the same feelings, hobbies, and music taste. I feel the swarm every time I talk to you, every time we laugh together, and every time we do dumb stuff. ​But as time goes by, something changes. We rarely talk, and something is just not right. ​I have so many questions, but the words just don't come out. I’m afraid that it would break, even though there was never a label. Like a spare key—I have access to your life, but I don't own it. ​I am drifting in your penumbra, but why can't you see it? I'm confused whether to let go or keep this so-called "relationship," even though it's tearing me apart. ​I kept on looking for the ghost-print of us; it turns out it was never there.