Do you lurk in the shadows watching me?
I put everything out there, hoping you will see, will read me, will view me—will watch me and know how I feel, how I still feel.
Open, my life is a book, written on pages before you, and everyone can read it, read me. Part of me hopes you are watching and part of me is so afraid of what you might see.
You are invisible to me. All traces of a connection that was once so real and strong to me—gone. I seek for it; I yearn for it. I reach out and can almost touch it, almost feel it, and then it vanishes like smoke before my eyes.
I don’t cry. I don’t get angry. I’m not sad. I’m just barely breathing, barely holding on to that thin string that is sanity and dangerously close to stepping over the line into the realm of fantasy forevermore—drifting into fitful sleep each night.
Even in my dreams, I ca...Read More