It came to me in dreams of night, and through the veil softening reality’s light. At times, I believed myself mad, insane. Those gossamer moments when my mind quieted and I watched the others from shadowed windows of sight. Over aware, as I sometimes became, they appeared different in ways that caused me pain. I did not move like them, speak as they did, nor understand their world. When their eyes turned to me, contempt was barely concealed. In instances of mutual awareness, I did not belong. The more time spent as the misfit, the louder darkness called. Finally, I leaned closer, reaching out to touch it, and found all for which I longed.