Not Just Face Deep.
Remember when we were small? And we would peer into the artificial (magical then) blue abyss of the public pool with mixture of curiosity, fear and that tantalizing flicker of the precious knowledge that we are attempting stuffs of which the consequences are unknown?
Dangle a (sacrificial) foot into the egnimatic depths and swish it in the cool water, shrieking in delight, for we have found a new source of amusement.
Emboldened and bolstered with this newfound knowledge, we would plunge into the pool, so certain, so sure, the floor was just beneath, a scant few metres below of said dangling feet.
Only to realize, a horrifying second too late, the floor is within the standing capability of our chubby appendages after all.
Sputtering and sobbing, we splished and splashed to the surface, crying to our over-anxious mothers, the newfound source of amusement morphing, ever so suddenly, into a newfound fear, another dreaded reason for those nightmares when we go to sleep at night again.
Ah, all you people taking physics would say, but the depth of the pool isn't based on the naked eye, but on refraction and all that shit. (Pardon the lady's uncouth language.)
But ah, put away your physics ladden mind and use your heart to think for a moment, anyone has a sense of deja vu?
How often, would you encounter such situations?
To feel, you understand someone or a certain situation, and find out, that the cut goes deeper, much deeper?
I feel suitably chastened, to be ashamed that I would dare to assume so much of something or someone.To pour my truckloads of petty problems onto her, but not return the favor. To not know, everybody has skeletons in their closets, and had not bothered to find out or help out, because I assumed she was alright. Because I assumed she was fine.
Because I accepted her surface and her polished exterior.
If I were a true & good friend, I would have probed deeper, find out more, and maybe did something to lessen her sufferings, her burdens.
To this, I'm sorry.
You know who you are.
|