…Somehow. My reality seems disconnected from those who’ve never been through certain experiences. I can be right next to someone but as good as in another world entirely for all that, speaking and hearing the same language, we cannot connect. No cell phone plan, no internet, no timing or effort of will on our parts can bridge that distance when intellectual understanding blocks empathy, when you really have to have been there to understand what the world looks and feels like to me. But every once in a while, there will be that moment where I see someone who sees me — a glance, a word, something unspoken but deeply felt, and I’m not a ghost alone anymore. There’s someone else moving in the same transparency layer. Ironically feeling dead most days, I feel just for one spark of a moment that I’m human again, to one person, passing through bag into our separate foggy soups of the days.