is this really the life that i am after. am i really in the life i want. i want. i want - there are several men at my door they have been taking turns knocking but i feel guilty. i feel ashamed that i have been caught enjoying my day. i am sure they are here to ask me what i have done with my time, what i have done with myself. they are now peering in through the windows. i know them. we grew up together. they once laughed at how i had dressed at school. now they are in the house. i am hiding in plain sight but they are still looking for me. they have searched the piano bench and couch but i am likely to be in my house. i am likely to see them when they see me. i don’t think they will see me with my back turned to them. i want them to love me. i want them to find me like they used to find me - with smiles on, and now i understand what heaven is, why people dream of it, why they hope for it after they die. now they are feeling my body. but i don’t think they have found me yet. i don’t think they understand that i am really just coming to understand myself, like when i look in the mirror and i say - god, god do you hear me, can’t you see that i am in need here - and god says to me - of course i was never here, i was just here for you to think about but i am not the hugging kind of guy. you understand don’t you - and i do understand. i understand exactly what god has said to me as the men who are looking for me, as the men who have come to find me begin to speak to me, begin to have a conversation with me as they still try to find me. but i know they haven’t found me yet. they are still trying so hard to find me in the conversation they are having with me about how we imagine we have parents who are proud of us, who like us and like what we have chosen to do with our lives, how we pretend to have parents like this because it gives us someone to please, someone to show our accomplishments to, and we all laugh that we have some, have graduated from imagining friends to imagining parents, and one man says he loves his imaginary parents, but he really misses his real ones who died in a fire several years ago, and how he loves how he can control the faces of his parents now, how he can say they are in heaven now, and they come to his baseball games and look down on him and they are so proud of him - and we all nod our heads and agree - yes - this is very poignant love - isn’t it wonderful and i wave goodbye to the men and they thank me for inviting them over and as i close the door, in the brief moment before the door clicks shut, i imagine they have not found me like this.