Why is it, that the people who know you best, often don't know you at all; and the people who know you least can see straight into your soul, and describe you more accurately that you can yourself? In the past 2 weeks, someone I barely know has defined me in two words; words that I wanted to vehemently deny at first, but they struck such a powerful chord in me that I realised, upon further consideration, that those two words defined me to my core. It scared me--both because I could be described in two little words; and because someone, who scarcely knows me at all, saw through the layers of masks and walls I so carefully constructed to keep the world at a safe distance and perceived who I truly am. Yet, of all my good friends, close friends, wonderful, dear, amazing friends, I don't believe that any of them could ever pin down (let alone believe) the two words that are, above all other words, me. Why is it that strangers know us better than our friends do, better than we, ourselves, do? The only people I can think of who could even dare to see me--the real me--are people I may never see again.
Maybe some day, one day, I'll be able to show my friends who I truly am. Maybe. Some day. One day....
Oh, and as a non-sequitur, I got the new Harry Potter book on Friday night (well, Saturday morning, as it was a little after midnight). :)
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Pardon my disagreement, but I do believe some of these dear, close friends of yours would believe the two single-word descriptions you have mentioned, even though I will agree that none of them would have thought of them on their own. Life does have an amazing power to bring about unusually intriguing events and circumstances...
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