Do we ever really know someone? After an intense conversation with my mum today. We were both left pondering this question. She and I are becoming close again. But as she said I know you bub. Yet I only know you that your prepared for me to see. I thought I knew people in my past but appears I knew them with limits. Do we just blindly throw ourselves into relationships or friendships. Hoping we will know the real person. Or are we closed to the fact we all have such deep, secret filled souls, that we can only but scratch the surface. Gliding through life. Unprepared to question a person for the fear they’ll walk away. So as I should be closing my eyes drifting into a blissful sleep. I wonder do we ever really know someone? Do we even know ourselves?