Those Moments

Have you ever seriously considered what kind of superpower you would like to inherit? I have. Too many times to count. For the most part, I always settle on being able to hear people's thoughts. Not all the time, just whenever I tap into my well of power. Living in a world where too many people are too afraid to tell you how they really feel is frustrating, and it would un-complicate a lot of things for me if I could just read their minds and move on with it. But sometimes (and by sometimes I mean at least three times a week) I find myself wishing that my power would be the ability to disappear. That's right: Poof! Vanish! Presto! Gone! All those moments that you relive at night before sleep claims you, those moments that make you cringe with how uncomfortable they were? Those would be completely eliminated by this ability! Like that moment when your ex's twin catches you staring? Or that moment when the worst blind date of your life sees you in the Cross Roads when you look like an orc who escaped from Mordor, and decides now is the time to acknowledge your presence? Or the time you awkwardly run into the boy you dumped as gently as you could, and in an effort to escape, make a dash for the nearest classroom door, only to discover it is locked by having your full body weight rebounded against you?! OR perhaps, just maybe, it's that moment when your dear friend who wants to be more than friends asks if he can come by your apartment with a friend to introduce you to. And maybe, just maybe, you agree, although you're somewhat puzzled. You puzzlement quickly turns into shades of anxiety as he arrives with a little china-doll-just-graduated-high-school-brunette, and announces that they're engaged. Your emotions fluctuate from total shock (because who gets engaged in two weeks?!) to hoping with all your might that she doesn't know who you are, and what roll you've played in her new arm candy's life. And maybe, just maybe that moment becomes almost crushingly unbearable when said fiance then asks you if you can come to the wedding? And all you want is to disappear in the floor, to hide in some obscure part of the world and never have to smile through the stilted introductions while you hope that this sweet girl doesn't know that you're the one her man has been pursuing for the last year of his life. Or maybe this is one of those hypothetically-speaking moments. Maybe.