Blood

Monday, June 7, 2010

Behind the Curtains


I've always wondered what it would be like to be a ghost watching people. I remember pretending to do this at different times in my life. As a child I hid from the girls at my birthday party and waited for them to come looking for me. I watched them call my name from behind a building outside of our house. I waited and watched, I believed that they couldn't see me, I said words to them that I knew they would not hear. When they came close to my hiding spot I jumped out at them. There was excitement and laughter. This is a memory.
When I was a teenager, I remember watching a boy I liked through a window. He could not see me, he did not know I was there. I watched his gestures and movments. When he looked around his space, I imagined that he was looking for me. I said words to him that I knew he would not hear. I tried to make him believe the words that I whispered. I thought myself a ghost then and I felt that I could be happy just watching forever. This is a memory.
I sometimes find myself watching people I don't know and never will. I wonder if they feel the energy of my attention, or if it just glides past them like an empty breeze. Do they feel my eyes? I say words to them that I know they will not hear. Words that match the moment. If they look up I imagine that it is because of my thoughts. It might be.
When I get a prickle, when I get a feeling, I think about the way a ghost must watch. I turn my feeling into an action. I look around for shadows and lights. I say "hello" to nothing. I smile. I connect with the space. I let a sob escape. I let all of these things happen because just incase it is you watching, you saying words that I will never hear, I want you to know that your visit was not missed. I was there with you, Frost, when you were here with me.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

1 comment:

  1. I'm a people watcher. I think of you often, and hope you have many encoragments from your sweet boy.

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