Do you really?

A few days ago I heard someone say about me, "Oh yeah, I've known her for years...I know her like I know myself."

That got me to thinking, how much do people really know about each other? Certainly not as much as they think they do.

One of my best friends has no idea that one strange night when I was seventeen years old, he saved my life. With a hug.

My siblings have no idea how many times I've wished I were an only child. And how many more times I've been grateful that I'm not.

A boy somewhere in America thinks nothing of the time that will remain my single worst regret.

Another boy in America will never know exactly how thankful I am for his friendship, and above all, his honesty.

My mother remembers nothing of the sheer terror I felt when she lost me, twice.

A childhood friend has no idea that I walked in on her father and his mistress when I was 9 years old. I didn't have any idea either until much, much later.

The scary/interesting thought is that everyone else I know, or think I do, is just the tip of an iceberg.