Dad says if you stand perfectly still, no one will notice you. Dad was wrong. I’ve been fidgety my whole life. I wring my hands, I trip over my own feet. I stumble and crash into people, and then I mutter quiet apologies. But still, no one sees me. I fear no one ever will.

It’s like being behind a curtain. You know something’s on the other side, and if you reach your arms out far enough, maybe you can grab something. I can hear people talking over there. Talking, and laughing, too. But I’m not allowed to join the conversation. I can remember it being like that my entire life. I’d smile, and perhaps I’d chuckle a little, but when I’d open my mouth to speak to someone, they’d find a reason to go to the other side of the room. Now I don’t even try to be a part of things.

Mom says if you don’t put yourself out there, no one will know to talk to you. Mom was wrong, too. I’ve tried, and still, no one sees me.

I’ll stand behind my curtain. I’ll wait. And when no one talks to me, I’ll manage. I always have.