I was flying home the other day and I thought I recognized a face on the plane, but wasn’t really sure so I hesitated and the result was as usual: we went our separate ways probably never to cross each other’s path again.
But a peculiar mood closest to some kind of a guilt trip (?!) wouldn’t leave me alone for days and I would often catch myself thinking back to that day, wondering…
Why would I feel any guilt over not approaching a stranger on a plane.. was beyond me. Maybe because the guy wasn’t really a complete stranger?
Or at least I thought so.
I thought he might be the kid I knew in my early childhood and that we might have played together long long time ago when I used to visit my grandma in the country during the summer break. We must have been eight or nine back then, maybe even younger than that..
And then all of a sudden, while I was staring at the face of a man in front of me at the airport, his eyes and lips looked so damn familiar even though the guy was rather different from the dusty image of a boy that had obviously stuck with me throughout the decades (much to my own surprise?!).
He was taller, skinnier and all grown up, of course, but somehow I was sure it was him.
And even if it wasn’t, I had reasons to be embarrassed about my behavior on that flight. What kind of a grown person would run away from a childhood buddy instead of at least saying hi? Well, not the person I wanted to be, that’s for sure.
So I decided to do something about it this time.
Since it was impossible to turn back the time and say hi back then & there at the airport, I was left with only one logical solution.
And so I bravely stepped on the path of a regular online stalker.
Yes, I was aware of the fact that the guy might think I was some kind of a psycho, searching for all his online profiles like that, but I decided to risk it and go ahead with my plan anyway.
Those ugly hell fires of guilt were recklessly burning inside me, it was becoming unbearable. Guilt trip is a bitch.. And nobody likes to look like a coward in their own eyes, of course..
I knew that I should probably investigate into the reasons why I had all these mixed up feelings inside me, but I was too busy with my mission for the time being, so I just made a mental note to delve into it some time in the future (some other time!) and moved on, slightly relieved of my guilty conscience..
Anyway, I found some of his points of contact and I used them. No answer. The guy just didn’t respond. My messages were left like that, hanging in the air, unanswered, roaming around in virtual reality, with no purpose or point. And I was left confused, and slightly ashamed of myself, stalking the guy like that.
That was not the way my mamma raised me.
I was supposed to be much better mannered than that.
Which brings me to my main question here: what level of impropriety is allowed or tolerated or maybe even desirable – in reaching to other people? Is the social mask we all wear all the time exactly what prevents us from living our lives to the fullest?
Are we so scared of other people that we will use whatever it takes to run away from any situation with the remotest potential of letting another human being in?
And what is it that we’re scared of? Other people’s madness? Or.. our own?