The concept of actually knowing some one makes my little brain flutter with emotions.
How do you know someone? Sure, you know there favorite color, favorite foods, the things that make them happy, and even the things that they hate. But these are just things that you know of them, not necessarily them, themselves.
I know a lot of people. Well better said, I know of a lot of people. I know many things about them. Through the course of years I’ve gotten to know more and more about them. They too have grown to know of me. But do they know me?
Do they know me? No. They know the me that I let them see. They know the person I want them to see. The person they want me to be. Why? To keep them? To make them happy? To not cause any confrontations? The answer to all of these may possibly be yes.
I would like someone, at least one person, to get to know me. Not of me. Not my favorite color, nor food, or anything that describes me. I want them to know me.