Gone
I disappeared yesterday. I was with a group of people. They were talking about plans. And poof I was gone. Of course, although I might have felt invisible, I was probably still there in body, but nevertheless, I felt gone, disconnected. It’s not a new feeling for me, and I’m pretty sure, unlike Billy Pilgrim in Slaughterhouse Five, I’m not actually traveling in time or anything. But the feeling of profound solitude and aloneness is real, even in a crowd.
Maybe it's a short-circuit in my psyche. One minute I have power. One minute I don’t. One minute I’m connected. One minute I’m not. One minute I’m here. One minute I’m gone. Invisible. My usual response is to walk away. Mostly I say goodbye. But there are lots of times when I can simply walk off, being fairly certain the departure will be unnoticed, because–I’m invisible.
When it first started happening, long ago, I tended to take it personally. Over time, however, I began to realize it was anything but. People have lives. They live them. And no one can think about me all the time, and there are large degrees as to how close people want to be as friends. And, surprise, surprise, some people don’t want you as a friend at all. Anyway, I’m back. Carrying on while wondering, why does life have to be so hard.