Three years ago I had a day like today. I thought perhaps I might disappear. People would look and go on looking, through me and around me and beyond me. It would be quiet and sort of warm and numb, and I would never make eye contact again. Not that I want the world to be like that... nor did I then. But so it seems, and somehow my voice is muted, just like everything else.
Because it doesn't make sense
For me to cry out in my own defense.
On that day, I reached out to someone who had no reason to answer me, or to care, or to try. He grabbed my hand without a moment's hesitation, and I didn't disappear.
I still reach out. Even though I don't know what I'm hoping for.
Labels: Missing You, Stress
