Metaphors and glass

It has been a long day. One that I actually felt detached from in many ways. It was followed by a longer evening which felt like a void more than anything else. I'm tired. Perhaps that's why these thoughts and words came to me as if I was transported to a land of metaphor, where sensitivity is heightened and stream of consciousness takes over. It reads like something I would've written as a teenager. I guess feelings really don't evolve too much over time - just the events that provoke them.

I feel like I’m looking through a store window from the outside. I can kind of make out what’s happening inside and I want to go in but the sign on the door says closed. I tap gently on the window. No reaction. I tap a little harder and he looks up, then looks away. I can almost hear what they’re saying if I press my ear right against the glass, almost straining my ear drums to catch a word, a mumble, a whisper, anything. He approaches the window and stands in front of me. I can see him so clearly it’s as if I should be able to reach through and touch him. He tells me in so many words that everything is okay. The glass suddenly feels very thick between us. I ask to come inside but he tells me that they’re closed. The window is getting fogged up. Perhaps I’m breathing too hard. He starts to walk away. I pound on the glass hoping now to shatter it, creating a portal for me to enter and join them. But the glass doesn’t even crack.