I am an invisible man. I am the wind you feel rush past you, when there is none in the air. I am the presence you feel, even when no one is around. I am the gaze you feel burning into the side of your head, even when you know no one is looking. I can see you, yet you cannot see me.
I am not an evil spirit, nor a guardian angel; I do not bring good or bad luck, I do not wreck havoc or give protection, I am simply an invisible man. I am slightly different perhaps, but I age, maybe more slowly than a visible man, and I feel emotion. Happiness, sadness, anger, jealously. I am mostly a stranger to fear however, for who can harm a man who is not there? I am an invisible man.
Is being an invisible man scary or fun? Maybe it is both. It is fun, to do things without fearing other people, to jump and play and be young at heart. For who can judge a man they cannot see?
Yet, maybe it is scary, maybe I am not as distant with fear as I once believed. For who can have a relationship with an invisible man? Who can share the same experiences, with someone who is not seen? Is it not my destiny to die alone, invisible in more than a metaphorical sense? For who can love an invisible man?
The world seems different from the perspective of an invisible man. For I have seen how times have changed, for better, but perhaps for the worst. For who has a chance of discovering an invisible man, when all they do is work or play video games inside, or focus on schooling or their own appearances?
In the past, people have noticed me. I would walk with them, when perhaps, no one else would. An old, frail man, lying in his bed; he knows he is dying but where is his family? They have gone, he is alone. Except for the invisible man.
Or a young child, walking without a parent for the first time. The world is a daunting place, large and judgemental, where would a child fit into that? I am the soothing presence that reminds them that they are never truly alone.
It is only the very young or very old who notice an invisible man? It seems to be that way. A young child's mind is still full of imagination and an old man has seen enough of the world to know that not all things that exist must be seen. I am an invisible man, and I still exist.
I am the wind you feel rush past you, when there is none in the air. I am the presence you feel, even when no one is around. I am the gaze you feel burning into the side of your head, even when you know no one is looking.
Maybe I am a guardian spirit, for I walk with people who need me, maybe I am part of the past, for I have seen times change, and maybe, I am close friends with fear, for I am never truly part of the world. I am an invisible man.
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