I see him standing there and a hint of a smile slowly, secretly spreads across my face. For a moment I am without form, without body. The material has faded away and I am untethered, free to float in this momentary happiness of seeing him, of knowing that he is near.
But the moment is fleeting, as are all moments of happiness, and in the breath of a sigh I fall hard to the ground, back into this body of mine.
I remember that I carry eighty extra pounds of flesh and three scars that cross my lower abdomen horizontally. Life giving scars. Scars of creation.
My chest is creased by so many years of exposure to the invisible ferocity of the sun’s rays. My breasts are streaked with soft white lines that tell the story of three suckling babes who were well-loved. The dark eyes that once crinkled with wrinkles when laughter was about are now faintly crinkled with wrinkles without laughter in attendance.
Yes, I drop down hard back to the Earth, both feet rooted in the dirt as a ghost swirls around me. The ghost of my old love, the one who left. He runs the tips of his spectral fingertips across my cheek as he whispers, you are unworthy. His fingers dance lightly down the nape of my neck and across my shoulder as he kindly reminds me, you are unlovable.
I shudder to think.
Yes, I see him standing there and a hint of a smile slowly fades. I look away and as a child believes when they cannot see you then you cannot see them, I pretend that if I look away, if I do not see him, then I too will be spared his gaze.
I will remain invisible.