Missing
Have you seen this person? Do you recognize her face? I would like to know.
Does this woman live in your neighborhood? Have you passed her on the street? Perhaps, even once, the side of her hand had gently grazed your own as the two of you maneuvered awkwardly past the large brown flower barrel outside of the used bookstore where you used to browse.
If this were so, if this had happened, would you recognize her? Would you have glanced up at whomever had just made contact with you? Would you have seen her face? Would it have become etched within your memory, somewhere deep down inside, or would she have simply registered to you as an impression, a vague shape, void of detail or form?
Perhaps there was a time when you momentarily caught her eye as you sat, precariously perched upon an overly-high chair at a small wooden table in your local coffee shop.
Is this possible?
Surely, it was just a passing glance. You did not gaze upon her over-long. Your eyes did not tarry upon her. They did not flit back and forth from her hand to her face, as she gently brushed at a loose strand of hair, tucking it neatly away behind her ear.
Did your eyes really meet with hers from over the rim of your paper cup, as they surely seemed to do, as you took a sip from your coffee before turning your eyes once more downwards and towards the screen in your other hand?
It meant nothing to you, of course. Truly less than nothing. It was something that you might do a dozen times or more throughout the course of a day without a thought, without even being aware that you were doing it.
No, do not argue with me on this. Do not try to convince yourself otherwise now, for the sake of saving face. Do not cheapen the moment with lies. You would only be doing both yourself, and I, a disservice by disagreeing.
I do not ask that you attach any significance to this moment. Any significance that you should so choose to attach to it is purely of your own devising, and has nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with this woman. I only ask that you should acknowledge this moment, if it so occurred. I only ask, for the sake of finding her, that you should remember.
Have you seen this person?
If you met this woman on the street, would you recognize her? Would you fain to give her a nod in passing recognition? Would you be willing to mouth a simple “hello?”
Could you ever be so brazen as to actually speak out loud to her, this woman? Or are you nothing more than a coward, not worth her time, not worth the space that you would occupy within her mind?
And if you should be so bold, at any time, as to approach this woman, to engage with her, do not be so surprised if you are met with a look of baffled confusion. Do not be surprised if she does not recognize you. It was, after all, just a passing glance. It meant nothing. Truly, it meant less than nothing.