Invisible
Now that I’ve disappeared into the ethos of central mass, the sisters and brothers can dig even deeper into their illusions. I’m a piece of glass they don’t have to see. They’ve chosen their made-up memories of perfection now that there is no one to stand for what was true and honest. Now that I’m invisible, their holidays are easier. Their pretend technicolor, three-dimensional, artificial world is stitched together by story and fable, by hopes and toxic positivity. Sisters don’t need to make space or time for this transparent version of me. This new me that they’ve never met has no relation to the version they created out of desperation, denial and shame. I am perfectly carved out and removed, cropped from the family picture. Left alone to become my transparent, true self. Something only possible far away from the clan that insists we were something we never even tried to be. Now that they can’t see me, I see them ever more clearly. Their pain and their hurts so clearly r...
