Broken

We normally meet different people every day of our lives. Different, because they are either loved ones, relatives, coworkers, neighbors, friends, casual acquaintances, or total strangers. If we don’t meet them physically, our thoughts of them bring them around in our lives.

It is very difficult – if not downright impossible – to isolate ourselves completely from others. We seem to be meant to live with them, whether we like them or not. Some deep thinkers say that this is a divine design in order to ensure the collective survival of our species.

But how well do really know our divinely assigned life partners? On average, not really well enough. We have since established conventions that dignify pretense and distance.

It is not proper to bare our true selves to one another; our miseries are our own cross to carry. And we are not to pry on other people’s troubles; it’s none of our business. We are to put up a tough face and bother little about others, always.

I believe that we are each born with some kind of a crack in our beings. And our own crack is to be fixed only with the help of others. In return, we are also to help others fix theirs.

I must admit to have sacrificed social decorum in the case of a friend. He is one person with quite a name in the community. My friend is a winner, belonging to the social upper class and with good connections with people in power.

The guy has various involvements in all fields, business, the arts, charity, and religion. The times in between, he dizzies himself in parties and constant travels. He is the exact picture of someone who has everything, who is everything.

Not quite true. I see a completely different person behind the public image. He is lacking in self-concept and looks to others for his own self-definition. He bluffs a lot, too, just to look the part that others expect him to play.

He has insomnia and worries a lot about what his “friends” are saying about him behind his back. House staff and even family members dread his company; they prefer that he is out of the house most of the time. What’s sadder, he probably even loathes himself.

Many times he would solicit my comments about certain things he was doing. Wanting to boost his morale I would accentuate on the good side of his involvements. Often, he would brush aside my positive remarks, saying I was being biased towards him because we were friends.

If I commented on the negative, he would vigorously try to prove me wrong. And he would get back at me by pointing out my own imperfections. I would suddenly keep quiet when he would do that.

Just recently his wife of more than 30 years, and mother of his three grown-up kids, has sought annulment of their marriage. She says she can’t stand him anymore. The lawyer tells her she’s likely to get her wish granted.

But, no, my friend doesn’t look miserable at all. At least not on the outside. He appears exactly as he always has – trim, neat, well-shaven, confident and poised as any wonderful man would be. If you saw him today, you would never think he has a problem.

The outward look successfully hides the crumbling pieces of the person inside. But it only does from a distance. Those close by hear the sound of collapse and begin to keep away.

The crack, when left to remain under the cover of pretenses and showmanship, continues to degenerate and can result in a breakdown. This is likely to happen to my friend. Worse, he may be shocked to know that even the people close to him may not be willing to pick up his broken pieces. (E-MAIL: [email protected])