>Last week I made some unexpected discoveries about people I ‘know well’. And I’ve been feeling lost since then. Like somebody’s just mixed up all the pieces of my jigsaw puzzle and I’m supposed to make a new picture out of it now.
It’s strange how little we actually know about the people we claim to know well. But the secrets seemed to have been waiting for this time to come out of the closet, for there seemed to be no reason for those secrets to be shared now, if they hadn’t been before.
And it must be difficult to talk about a violent husband. About an unhappy home where you spend your life waiting to get out of it. About an irreversible physical condition. But they talked about it, allowing their guards down, exposing their vulnerable side, letting me in on these private aspects of their lives.
It’s easier to deal with people who seem to have no issues. But when you know the baggage that your friends are carrying, it’s not possible to look at them with out thinking of their problems. I look at their smiling faces now and think of the pain they carry with them. And think then how little I can do to take away that pain.