I'm Still Here

When I was a child, I would occasionally 'disappear.' I would go into our living room and curl up pn the floor behind one of the armchairs where no one could see me. Most of the time I wouldn't turn on the light in the room so as to throw off anyone who was looking for me to do some task around the house. I would select a much-loved book from the bookcase and lose myself in reading about different places and different lives. It was bliss to a shy child with an inferiority complex.

I still tend to 'disappear' from time to time. I'll burrow into my home and my family, ignoring the pull of friends and acquaintances. "Where have you been?" and "I haven't seen you in ages," become common responses from my neighbors and friends on catching sight of me out somewhere or pulling into the driveway. For some reason, I have a need to become a hermit every so often and shut myself up and off from my fellow men or anyone who is not immediate family. Lately that's been the case. But don't worry. I'm still here. I'm just wrapped in a cocoon waiting to emerge. (Not as a butterfly, I'm really more of moth.)