There are Other People Out There

I was sitting on the bus, listening to music, looking out the window. Not unusual for me. Then I looked out, and into a not-too-fancy italian resturant. At a table, I saw too people: A father and daughter. (I want you to now that this is all written based on what I think, and how I interperate things. I have no evidence that they're even related.) They were talking, passionatly, about something. They were a fair distance away from me, but I could see them clearly. Then it occured to me (when I thought this), they couldn't see me.

They didn't even know that I existed. And they probobly never will. They had their own story, own background, own path. And mine has nothing to do with it. This isn't the first time I've pondered about this: For years I would look out the car and think "that guy has his own world, seperate from mine." I never put the pieces together quite like I do now though.

There was an abcence of a motherly figure at the resturant. Could that have been what they were talking about? Is she gone forever, or visiting her own mother out of state? Could they have been divorced? Is that why the father seemed to be having a difficult time getting through to her daughter? And most importantly: Will I ever know?

I've concluded this: We all have our own little worlds. You reading this now, that means that I've entered your world and can never get out. But don't let that freak you out... there are billions of people you'll never SEE, let alone talk to. Like the two. They had their own problems, and I have mine. Right then and there, if I could I would have torn that barrier down and tried to help them. Maybe I wasn't meant to be a part of their world. But they've become a part of mine... they just don't know it.

Don't be afraid to break down the barrier.