Can you see me? I’m staring at you. Staring. But I know you can’t see. No, you’re too busy in your own world to notice. I’m standing right here, but you can’t see.

What if I yelled? Screamed? What if I waved my arms, cried out, pulled at my hair. Interupted your perfect conversations. Blasted right through your perfect life, staining it with my presence. Then would you see the girl who had always been there? Would you care?

So instead I wait. And stare. One day I fear I’ll just freeze here. My eyes will glaze over and I’ll stop moving. Always waiting. Wondering what it’s like to live the life you live.

No one can see me. Or if they can, they just don’t care. They don’t care about what is behind this stare. Which one of those people are you? Can you see me?