A List of Cages

by Robin Roe

I know what I think, but people don’t want you to say what you think. They want you to say what they think. And knowing what that is isn’t easy.

Because when you’re between two shores and no one can see you, you don’t really exist at all.

It’s strange how many ways there are to miss someone. You miss the things they did and who they were, but you also miss who you were to them. The way everything you said and did was beautiful or entertaining or important. How much you mattered.

When you know you’re going to tell someone everything, you see your day through your eyes and theirs, as if they’re living it alongside you.

But when you don’t, it isn’t only not seeing double—it’s not seeing at all. Because if they aren’t there, you aren’t either.

Hate ricochets, but kindness does too.