Invited to Invisibility
Really?
You said you’d call and you didn’t.
Did I make that up? Oh, no, I have the text right here. I’m not crazy.
Are you avoiding me?
Or, did you forget? If you forgot, how can I show up enough for you to remember me? Or, can I?
If I bring it up, this felt sense of dismissal,
It will create a defensive fuss, at least if I can rely on our history together. Can I represent myself in such a way that you hear me as me and not as a critical parent?
Not convinced I can.
So, do I just slip away?
If I do, what do we have left but going through the motions?
When I called, you said you were 10 minutes from home.
I heard George in the background. Sounds to me like you’re still at the office.
Sure enough, here you are 40 minutes later, just about the time it takes to walk to your car and drive home.
Do you really think I’m that naive?
Yes, I will be disappointed with the truth, but less so than with fabrication.
Eroding trust, harder to rebuild. Lost ground.
Are you using that 6th sense you have to know what a woman wants and tell it to me?
You know I expect you home now (cause that was our agreement), so you’ll not disappointment me quite as much, just split the difference and maybe I won’t notice?
Is that it?
Invited to invisibility once again.
Another trickle and trust dissolves.
I love you, but it feels like from a distance.
I have a secret you don’t know and I cannot share it.
This vast emptiness between us, how can I cross it?
I fear I cannot. Attempts prove futile.
I have a different point of view.
My opinion you drink as criticism—it is not the same sighting as yours.
We are separate. That scares you.
You don’t know that I’m simply playing a part.
Who I am, you do not see. I miss being seen by you.
A secret I’d rather not hold, and yet, I cannot share. Invisibility reigns.
