I Don’t Exist
He pretends I don’t exist, with this carefree air about him that disguises the turmoil I hope he feels. Whether it is turmoil over missing out, or if the turmoil is that I’m still here, I don’t think I’ll ever know, but I do know it has to be there. Otherwise, what has it all really been about for him all this time?
And we’ve never met, although we’ve been in the same building, the same room, even the same small airspace many different times. My wife and children are even genetically linked to this man, not that you would know it from the moments we’ve been close enough to have conversations that never existed.