The Price of Invisibility
We all have those moments when we want to turn invisible, but we can’t because everyone is watching to see what we will do next, cry, run, laugh, or simply walk away.
This isn’t about a moment like that.
I really am invisible; not the ‘see right through me’ type of invisible, but the ‘no one cares enough about me to notice I’m there’, invisible. I’m a fly on the wall, silent, watching, waiting, unnoticed.
It’s a lonely existence, one that often finds me crying into my pillowcase at night. But not for myself, well not usually, I mean I have felt like that before, but mostly I’m crying for others.
You see, when no one cares if you’re there, they talk about personal things, who they love, who they hate, who hurt them, and who they care about. Knowing the truth empowers me, but it is a heavy burden too. I can start anonymous rumors, or write anonymous letters, but if my plans go awry, chaos will ensue.
The burden is keeping it in, holding the knowledge inside where it won’t hurt anyone.
Anyone but me.