I move through life like a bug trapped in a glass box. I peer out at people who could be my peers if only they put in the effort. But I can never interact, I’m forced to watch their triumphs and sorrows the late nights spent laughing with their friends. Those are the scenes that hurt the most, seeing a form of joy I can never attain, sitting just out of reach from me. At least when I witness the tough moments I can momentarily feel grateful that I will be exempt from such loss. But life balances out and then I’m again left longing for something more. I used to try to interact, using the steam from my breath to write messages to passers by, most of them didn’t spare me a glance and those who did just stared in pity, perhaps they speak another language or my writing was backwards and hard to decipher. Either way they moved along. I grew tired of this diplomatic approach to connection, I would not be ignored. I’d bang on the glass and even if I knew it would never crack I could make them look at me, even if they didn’t want to. This always left me feeling worse, the box appeared smaller. 

And so I watch 

I watch and I learn and live through others. This is how I experienced a first love, then heartbreak. The joy of getting your drivers license and the emptiness you feel when you burry a pet. Living vicariously through others might not be much of a life but it is better than accepting isolation.