Just Passing By

02: How did we?

"Who...who are you?" I croaked out. I mentally facepalmed at myself. That sounded attractive. I sarcastically told myself. But I had an excuse. It hurt my throat to use my voice since I haven't used it in so long, having no one to talk to and no one to listen.

He smiled. It felt good having a smile directed towards me.

"Well, I call myself Adam. Out of all the names I've heard, that one is my favorite. And I think it fits." He shrugged. And it did. He fit all the standards for being an Adam. Chestnut brown hair, dark eyes, and a winning smile. (No offense to the Adams out there reading this that don't look like that...you're perfect just the way you are, Adam.)

"And, you're like me? You can see me, and I can see you? How is this even possible?" I muttered the last question.

"Hey, calm down, I know just as much as you do," he lifted both his hands up in surrender.

"So, um who are you?" He spoke up, after an awkward silence.

"I uh, actually don't have a name that I call myself." I replied.

"Hmm," he said while in deep thought, "I'll call you Angela," he replied proudly, as if what he said was clever.

I chuckled. "Angela it is."

We walked together in silence, just wandering the streets of New York. "Tell me about yourself," I blurted out.

"There's not much to say," he replied, looking straight ahead. We were approaching Central Park. "I wander around, finding new people and learning about them and their lives. I assume you do too?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I do, but I told you to tell me about you." I retorted. "Like your favorite color, your favorite place, what you're passionate about." I continued.

He paused. "Green, Rome, and I want to ride a bike," he said confidently.

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "Huh?"

"You know, like if I wasn't invisible, the thing I would want to do most is ride a bike. I've seen tons of little kids learn to ride one by being taught by their dads. When they first get on the bike, their eyes are bright and full of excitement. Then they fall off and scrape their knees and elbows and cry. I want to do that." Adam concluded.

"Wow, that's pretty deep," I said sarcastically and laughed. But it honestly was deep, in a way. He wanted such a simple thing, something that all these people take for granted, I thought.

He laughed too. "How about you then? Tell me about yourself," he said, elbowing me in the side playfully. By now, we were in Central Park and we sat side-by-side on a nearby bench that was covered in ice and snow.

"Gladly," I smiled, "Ever since three minutes ago my name is Angela," he laughed as I said that,"My favorite color is red and the only place I've ever actually felt happy, is here. New York City. I'm passionate about wanting a family. I want to have friends and have people who care about me."

He nodded. There was a comfortable silence between us. The people around us were laughing and playing in the snow. One woman was walking by and fixing the hood of her thick parka. A little boy was yelling for his mommy because he had a "boo-boo" from slipping on the ice. Another woman had just sat down on another one of the many benches in the park, looking around as if she were waiting for someone.

"How did we end up like this?" He asked. The question caught me off guard. And then I realized he was talking about being invisible.

I was silent for a while, and he looked at me patiently waiting for an answer.

"Yeah," I stated calmly, "How did we?"