Some time ago I wrote about the curious paradox of feeling loneliness when surrounded by others. I wonder if it’s to do with fitting in - or rather, not fitting in. I often walk to my own drum-beat - invested in my own interests, thoughts, and daydreams - and don’t typically share them with many.
I can be in the busiest room - in the middle of countless conversations, stories and laughter - and feel largely invisible. It’s almost like pulling on a suit of clothes - to be the person that you think others want you to be - and for the most part nobody has a clue.
Perhaps we all do it to an extent - the great charade - the great pretence.
Sometime though - sometimes we are seen.
Sometimes somebody gets to know us well enough that they see straight through the façade - to the person pedalling twice as hard as those nearby in order to appear friendly, approachable and charming. Hoping perhaps to be noticed - to be liked.
And then sometimes somebody comes completely out of left field. A chance crossing of paths. And they see you on-sight - see straight past the façade - straight past the act. A lightning strike of sorts. And suddenly the world is a bit smaller, a bit less intimidating, and a bit more friendly.
You unload on each other - somehow knowing about the rarity of the situation you find yourselves in - and you unload on each other. You share your story, your ideas, and the most mundane moments of the day.
And yet you’ve never met - and likely never will meet.
All you know are characters on a screen, or perhaps photos on a social platform. In a complete reversal of the real-world, your minds meet first. The strangest thing? You somehow know the bridges you build will stand the test of time.