I Can See You

When the world went silent, the only thing left was the gaze.

The pandemic didn't just empty the streets, it stripped away every tool we had used to avoid each other: the crowds, the noise, the endless scroll of notifications that kept the silence at bay. Masks took the smiles.

Distance took the warmth of a body near yours, and what remained was the only thing that couldn't be hidden: the eyes.

For the first time, we looked, really looked.

Fear pooling at the corners of a stranger's gaze.

Exhaustion dragging at someone's expression in a supermarket queue.

A flicker of hope in a face that had no reason left to hope, all of it spoken without a single word.

I Can See You is a book about what we discovered in that silence.

About the choice we face now that the noise has returned, because the danger was never the quiet, the danger is forgetting, sliding back into the habit of seeing without seeing, filling every pause until we can no longer hear what it holds, returning to a world of surfaces, where presence is performed, and connection is outsourced to a screen.

You have already opened your eyes, this book is for those who refuse to close them again.

For readers who believe that real attention is a radical act.

For those who felt something shift during those strange, still years, and don't want to lose it.