Behind the Glass::

New people. New place. New clothes. It didn't matter how different this time was. It still happened. It was out of the blue, a surprise that caught him off guard.

The glass had returned.

Of course, this wasn't to say that a piece of a window pane or wine glass was stalking him. That might make more sense. No, this was something else. That feeling of disconnection. That sense of being outside, looking in. Seperated from the world by the thinnest glass.

It always came back. He would be walking along, looking at his 'friends' and it would just happen. He would get a strange sense like he was not a physical part of the room. Like he was a ghost or something. All he knew was that he always felt isolated. Seperated. Unnattached.

By now he thought he would be used to it. After all, didn't he already know this would happen? Didn't he try to get away earlier, so he wouldn't have to deal with it so? Yes, he did. Something made him stay. Something always made him stay. Hope.

The hope that things would not be the same. That maybe he had found a home this time. Time and time again he would wander into thier lives, and stay for a short while. Some of the people he met would be an enemy, some would be friends for a short while. The fractional few would remain in contact as the friends he would not leave behind. Either way, friend or foe, he would eventually leave them. Maybe, just maybe, one of them would stay with him. Not often.

It was this hope that drove him. This hope that motivates him. It was the single ray of light in the abyss that kept him going through it all. It was always hard when the time came to leave. but he would leave with far more than he first came with. This hope kept him walking.

So once again, he finds himself behind the barrier. behind the wall of glass that seperated him from the people not two feet away, though it might as well have been two thousand. Worlds apart, inches away. The story of his life.  

It was usually similar each time. He would be watching them, either the group or maybe just one or two people. The sounds of thier voices melding together, streams that poured into a single river. He would let this river wash over him soothingly. His eyes faded, like one in a daydream. He looked around and saw more than his eyes could see. Thier laughter, thier smiles. Thier jokes, thier friendship. The threads that held them together, the bond they shared and the bond he always longed for. Maybe that was why he was so quick to dive into relationships.

and as this flowed over him, he would see it. That very bond that kept them together was keeping him out. He was outside looking in. He was behind the glass.

So again he would disapear. Again he would leave. and again he would try to find his place. his hope kept him going.

He came. He hoped he would leave something behind, something good. He tried to touch someone, to reach out and offer what he could. soon he would have to go.

He would leave only footprints, on the hearts of those he passed.

For he was looking from Behind the Glass.