Heart to Heart

My room mate and I were trying to sleep, but it turned into a private conversation that I never knew was going to happen. She was speaking about family and church life. It might not sound like much, but the way her voice was so seldom, unlike her usual bubbly self, held me captive and quiet as I listened to her churn out subtle words of sorrow and confusion about Dios and la familia. It broke my heart to know that this confident and cheerful girl could have hidden pain. As she broke off from her tale, we laid in silence, unsure of what to say. Should we continue this topic? Should we change it? It seemed right to just lay in an quiescence state of mind to understand and absorb the powerful emotions that she evoked in me as well as herself.

My epiphany tonight was not so much that she was not exactly who I thought she was, but that I have come to underestimate people. How hypocritical of me to always accuse my other friends of underestimating people when I commit this heinous crime on a daily basis. First impressions do give me a foundation and a vibe of who someone is; however, that is a mere outline. Where is the depth? Where is the connection? Why have I lost the ability to look past facades and believe that someone is not who they seem they are. I want to believe that every person has a sad tale to tell that links us all. I want to believe that every person is not as crude and cruel as they set themselves up to be. I want people to look past my rough exterior and realize that even tough Pauline is vulnerable. Therefore, I need to start to reach out again, to believe in people again.

To end this late-night-blog, I want to say this. I wish I went over and hugged you and said, "You make me want to believe again."