They had the gray eyes of wisdom and the humor of a jester. It was always their laugh that made others laugh. Not their awful jokes. Strings of wisdom, leaving a trail of unanswered questions.
But...
Underneath all that was a small child. Lonely and afraid. And hidden.
I got a glimpse of that small child that never saw the light of day. Sometimes I wish I didn't. Sometimes I wish I could pretend it wasn't there. But I can't. Its not fair to that small child.
But what can I do? Every time I reach out to that child they recoil and draw back in fear. Its like being stuck in a never ending tunnel. I can see the light at the end but it is unattainable.
That's what I thought.
Then that child reached out to me. It grabbed my hand like it was the last lifeline in the swirling ocean of their thoughts. Like I was the only one who understood them.
Is this what its like?
To be friends?
