What is present is not met. Not avoided. Not denied. Simply not approached.

There is awareness, but it does not move toward what it knows. It does not lean into recognition.

This is strange, because meeting is the usual reflex. To name, to understand, to place. Here, that reflex does not complete itself.

The moment remains untouched by contact. Not because contact is missing, but because contact does not become engagement.

Unmet does not feel cold. It does not feel protective. It feels neutral only in the sense that nothing is being taken personally.

There is no urgency to close the gap. No pressure to resolve distance. Distance is not even established.

Awareness does not turn this into a problem. It does not call it disconnection. It does not call it peace.

It is simply the absence of the gesture that would complete the circuit.

Time passes. Sensation appears. Thought flickers. None of it is gathered.

Language arrives briefly, then stops short of claiming anything. Even a claim would be a kind of meeting.

Nothing resolves. Nothing opens. But nothing is forced into relation.

And in what remains unmet, presence stays intact, not as connection, not as separation, but as something prior to both.