"You've never felt that way?" you asked.

"That I'm just somebody's shadow?"

"Right."

"I don't think I've ever thought that."

"Mm, maybe something's wrong with me. But I can't help thinking that."

"If that's true, that you're nothing more than someone's shadow, then where is your real self?"

"My real self—the real me—is in a town far away, living a completely different life."

— Haruki Murakami (The City and Its Uncertain Walls)