By Joe Virgillito
He never thought he’d have a problem
seeing another person’s face,
or that there might be one he’d like to see so often.
It made no sense. He started to question
her every little hinting detail,
as if she didn’t exist on the same plane of reality.
But he knew the reality
of the situation. It was becoming a problem.
His eyes were poring over every detail
on her Facebook page, staring at her face
in the upper left-hand corner. He wanted to ask her questions,
maybe about how often
she liked to smoke, if often
at all. But in reality
every hypothetical question
he posed was too idealistic. That would be a problem
if they ever talked face-to-face,
that the silly details
of his mind wouldn’t match the details
of hers. Maybe he could ask what television show she watched most often,
and he wondered what type of face
he’d make if she mentioned some dumb reality
show. He knew he wouldn’t have a problem
with anything she said anyway, whether she was answering his questions
or asking some questions
of her own. And as they talked, maybe the details
would start to slip through the cracks, and his only problem
then would be nodding just often
enough to forget that unrealistic
thought of bringing his face
to hers. Maybe if he could just face
it like a man and greet her with a smile he’d stop questioning
himself and see that she could be his reality.
He could see almost every single detail.
could when he started thinking too much about his problems,
but this really didn’t seem like a problem at all.
Maybe in her face, somewhere among all that beautiful detail,
he’d find an answer to those questions he asked himself so often.