Sometimes, when you least expect it, you meet the most amazing people.
There are, as I see it, two types of amazing. One almost immediately captivates you, draws you in, and blinds you. You are dazzled by rays of gold, sometimes utterly enamored by the shine and sparkle.
The other type is less easy to spot. This type of person is elusive; a hidden gem, a rough stone with the shine underneath that foretells a faceted wondrous nature that is more than worth the time it takes to unearth.
My trouble is- and possibly has always been - that while I lack the ability to skillfully interact with either type, I find myself almost utterly unable to approach the second type.
The difference between the two, I think, is that the sparklers are incredibly aware of their own presence. They are forces to be acknowledged. They thrive on being noticed, because they know they're amazing, and they love to be reminded of it. I think that, in many cases, the only thing that the sparklers would hide is anything that makes them look like a 'lesser person'.
The 'hidden gems' aren't knowingly hiding anything; they are often humble people with an awareness of the world around them that often surpasses that of you or I. But, (and this is the best I can do to explain the phenomenon) they have always been themselves. They see nothing too great in themselves. Who they are is who they are. They know where they've been and what they've been through. They are people.
I'd like to take a moment to address the inspiration of this post. Hopefully when he reads this he won't immediately discredit it, hopefully he won't be upset by it - but mostly, I hope that he understands what I'm trying to say.
About two and a half years ago I met this person. I was (and, to some extent, still very much am) a pretty self-absorbed gal. But even in the midst of my woes and hard times, this person stood out to me. We had only a few brief encounters, but from that I learned that he and I were somewhat similar in a few unexpected ways. We talked more and more, bit by bit, when we saw each other at a go-to we both frequent. I learned more about him, and I imagine he learned more than enough about me.
So when, a little while ago, something he said indicated that I'd been - kind of approaching him with kid gloves (my phrase, not his), it gave me pause.
It was after a particularly rare night for me; one of those times when I was a bit more confident, a bit less self-inhibiting, happier and much more social. Apparently, my conversation with him had been very different than it usually was. I'd been more open, less cautious (I wish I remembered the words better), and he'd noticed.
I had to think, then. Of course I'd known that I held back a bit when I talked to him; I was cautious, and not because I didn't trust him or anything - nothing like that!
So, why? It was a question I hadn't taken the time to ask. What was driving me to be cautious when we talked?
So, I've thought. And after thinking for awhile, I realized that I owed my friend - because, yes, I needed to use the word 'friend', an explanation. He may not see it this way - heck, I don't know if he ever thought of the whole thing after that one conversation - but I do. This is to him:
My friend:
Since I met you I have learned things about you that are incredibly interesting. I've also come to get the impression that you are a relatively private person. This, to me, has presented a dilemma: On the one hand, I want to know a lot more - I want to ask questions (even ones I cringe at, because, to me, they're very stupid), and talk and learn. On the other hand, I see the indications of reservedness, and my response to those indications has always been to treat with extreme caution. It's very hard to overwrite that response, especially when I see you going through a rough time. I find myself thinking, what if I ask something too personal? What if I'm overstepping the line by leaps and bounds? That's a really good, fast way to lose a friend sometimes, and I don't want it to be this time.
I know how this may sound, but I hope, again, that you read it the way I mean it. To me, you're one of the 'hidden gem' kinds of amazing. There are a lot of things I don't ask you that I wish I did. There are a lot of things I haven't brought up which I wish I had. And you have been very kind to me - you've helped me numerous times, offering a perspective I would be hard pressed to find anywhere else. Your advice has been invaluable on more than one occasion.
I don't know how to proceed from here. I'm not even sure what exactly compelled me, today rather than any other day, to finally try to communicate these thoughts.
But I wanted you to know them. I suppose part of it was to make it clear that through the past two and a half years, I have been listening, though my worries have kept me from responding. I wanted to make sure that you know that whatever impression I've given, I am interested in what you have to say.
And, of course, I wanted you to know that I think you are a hidden gem. You are a complex, incredibly thoughtful and interesting person who has been through - and overcome - more than I can imagine. Above all, though we hardly talk more than once a week, if that, you have made an impression, and I do consider you a friend. I hope that you consider me the same.
