Message in a bottle 

Sometimes, when you care about what someone thinks of you, it might be because you want them to see you as a good role model. A good mentor. 

You might have flaws; human nature that you don’t want them to see. Because you want to be better. Or wish you were better. Even though your accept your own humanity. Because you want them to have hope that things can be how they are tying to make them be. Because you wonder if they can accept your humanity. Because you wonder if they can accept their own. Or something. 

This might be why you don’t tell someone something about yourself. It’s not shame so much as an avoidance of their possible  disappointment. Or something. An attempt to protect them because you admire their apparent innocence. Things are nice just the way they are. Or something. 

That protected person might feel a bit confused. I don’t know if that’s something that matters. You may even have hurt his feelings a little. I might not know what to say about it. He certainly might ask a lot of questions and seem surprised by many of the answers. He might wonder if you thought he was a country hick from the ‘gong not worth sharing with something so personal and complex. He might wonder how he can be a better friend. Of course under any such circumstances, none of it would be any of my business.  Or something. 



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