The Great Pretender

I am America’s greatest living actor. I commit to every role so thoroughly and honestly that you’ve never seen me break character, never for a moment have you lost your suspension of disbelief. which floor board creaks when stepped upon on stage? I can tell you. which corner brings the best cast light? Easy. I can see myself through your eyes. the instant you’ve heard enough and beg for a change in direction, I am aware and comply with your unspoken request. when I’m not on stage I’m studying your habits, your moods, your telegraphed motivations. you tell me so much, everything really. all that is required is observation. you’ve seen me watching you, noting your movements, taking mental snapshots of your expressions, wondering why you nod hello to her and ignore him. why you smile to him, and brusquely parade past her. my every waking moment is totally and effortlessly dedicated to mastering the characters that shape our every day lives. hours pass without notice when I’m noticing you. the clock hands collapse like a Salvador Dali painting, tranquility pours over me, quenches me all the while. watching you entertains me. you are the true star. you are the complicated character. you are the hero. you are interesting, not I. there lies within me an indefatigable quest: how to be more like you, how to become you. this vocation I ply for free, never asking for a credit. who am I? I am the clerk at the convenience store where you get your morning coffee, your next door neighbor, the cop directing traffic up ahead, the radio deejay keeping you company in the wee hours, the friendly operator on the phone. I am anyone whose gaze meets yours. you’ve known all along.