Interior Alchemy by Natalie Kirkpatrick

WHEN THE QUESTION IS THE DISAPPEARING ACT

Some people don't walk away.
They slip out of themselves while sitting right in
front of you.

You can feel the moment it happens.
Something in the air tilts.
Your system narrows its eyes.



A tiny alert, not dramatic—just the truth
arriving faster than thought.

They've just asked you something real.

You start to answer.


And then the ground under the moment thins.
Their face stays.
Their attention doesn't.

It's quiet, the way they leave.
A small drop in presence—so slight you almost
talk yourself out of noticing.
But your body already clocked the exit.

They'll keep nodding, asking follow-ups, trying
to look like they're right there with you.

They aren't.

Your words skim across them the way water
skims a stone that refuses to sink.

I've seen this in men who swear they want
closeness.
I've seen it in women who pride themselves on
being "great listeners."
Their mouths stay engaged, but nothing in their
system catches what you give.

The shift reveals more than their questions ever
could.

When you speak, does the moment deepen?

Or does it flatten, like the air lost its density?

Does the room hold both of you, or are you
suddenly carrying the whole scene alone?

This is the part no one names:

Some people stay upright by keeping all the 
light pointed outward.
If it turns inward for even a second, the old
rooms inside them start making noise.
They don't know how to stay with that.
So they leave themselves and use the
conversations to cover the vacancy.

Not intentionally.

Just practiced.

And once you've seen it, you can't unsee it.
The timing of the departure.
The slight glaze behind the eyes.
The way they repeat your words later as if they
never heard them the first time.
Because they didn't.
They weren't there.

This isn't cruelty.
It's absence posing as interest.
And your body knows the difference long before
your mind wants to admit it.

The real teaching is simple and brutal:

When someone leaves themselves, there is 
nothing in them available to meet you.

Your clarity isn't to fix it.
Or work harder.
Or make your truth more palatable.

Your clarity is to feel the exit
exactly when it happens
and not follow them out of the moment.

Some people won't stay inside their own skin
long enough to stay inside a conversation.
Learn to recognize that drift.

I
t will save you years.