Sometimes, I’m not sure I exist. I forget that people can see me. Living so far behind my eyes that the person that walks around in this skin seems to be someone else. She is the person that goes through the motions of life. She is the person who eats, and breathes and drives and looks for work, while I sit back, way back inside her head and try not to get in the way.
But then we go out and I am reminded that people can see me and even more so that I want to be seen. I want to exist closer to the world. But I can’t seem to get hooked in.