Invisible

I woke up yesterday, and quickly found that I had turned invisible overnight. It was a strange thing- I could see my family, but they could not see me. I could see their lives without me.

I could see many things which I do not normally have access to- how well my children get on at school, how my colleagues and staff work when I am not around. I found out nick names I never knew I had, and that my traits are more socially unacceptable than I could ever image.

By simply observing, and not contributing, the world takes on a television like quality. I can see, follow, but not change. They do not know I am there, so I am always subject to complete honesty.

But my paranoia was fed as well. Like a starving dog looking for scraps, I soon found opportunities to pick and scavenge for things which under mind my self esteem. Are her relationships with others like I was always lead to believe? No, they are not- she spares me a lot of not only the tedium, but also the highs.

I dont remember her ever looking like that at me.

And if I was to stay invisible, day after day, week after week, these seeds I see before me may grow and shoot out branches which will in time provide fruit- ripe to be picked and chosen. A flirtatious smile, a glance across the room will soon become a touch, a linger, an embrace. And then I become further invisible.

In a world where I am not present, where even my shadow leaves no mark, people move on without me. New ruts and passions are made. My influence subsides.

The realisation is all too heavy for my body to carry, and I start to run. I could use this power for pre-pubescent voyeurism, but instead, I find it all too intoxicating, and must find solitude in the arms of mother nature.

I am soon with the birds and the flowers. But I find they act the same as always; they do not compensate for me not being there- in the same way they do not for me being there. My window on the world gets bigger, leaving me further away from that which I observe.

As the day comes to an end, I am drawn back to my home, where my heart needs to return. I am tired and saddened by all I have seen- the world is rushing on to forget me. I realise how small my cog is in this large machine, and I feel humble and insecure.

I let myself in to my home- if it still is my home, and climb the stairs to my bed to find her there already. She has fallen asleep whilst reading, the bedside light still lighting her face, the door slightly ajar. I can see her tears reflect wet on her face, and her hand reaching for my pillow.

I softly kiss her cheek- without waking, a smile comes on to her face, and she whispers goodnight to me, as if she can sense my presence.I may never hold her again, but I know there and then I still mean something to this wonderful person.

And that will never be taken away.