i see you

7:43 PM

His mouth curls at the edges and his eyes smile under his jauntily-perched cap. He centers himself in my attention. He hands me a ball. Metaphorically. The ball is conversation. I catch it and toss it back. Am I flattered? Secretly. I think hm, what impression am I making? I really must be an intriguing specimen to pique such interest. He and I team up in flattering myself. We bob and smile, and adeptly part ways.

And then it hits me. He was thinking about him. I was thinking about me. We passed like ships in the night. How odd and silly.
I missed a chance to see, to search him
Who knows what hopes and dreams of his are collecting dust from neglect? What gems of insight does he keep buried, unaware of their value to another curious soul? He simply put on a mask of who he thought he had to be to win my respect and attention. Did I do the same? 
And maybe I am of little interest to him after all. Maybe just getting my attention was enough for him. It's one more thing to define him; to prove to himself he's worthwhile. But who is he really? Until I learn to look past myself, I shall never know.
Are people just a game to play, or are they imago dei; likeness of the divine? 
Oh I dream of being the girl who sees.
The girl whose very eyes say you are already worthwhile, you have nothing to prove. 
So go, see with your heart not your eyes. 

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