Like two passing ships

As time progresses on I increasingly realize that I won't be
understood. It's not exactly a crushing thought. Just an observation.

Call it foolishness but I used to think that people would get what I
said. That certain people in my life would know me inside and out. But
that isn't true. Hard as we try I doubt very much that we will truely
be understood. And don't mistake this for whining or complaining. I
guess it's a good thing, being our own "man" different from all the
rest makes us indivuals and unique.

But still something in the back of my mind tells me this isn't right.
That people are supposed to understand each other. They aren't supposed
to go through life risking and thinking they know what's going on. But
the facts seem to fall in line with the first idea that we are nothing
more then "passing ships" in other peoples lives.

"
We are secrets to each other
Each one's life a novel
No one else has read
Even joined in bonds of love
We're linked to one another
By such slender threads

We are planets to each other
Drifting in our orbits
To a brief eclipse
Each of us a world apart
Alone and yet together
Like two passing ships

We are strangers to each other
Full of sliding panels
An illusion show
Acting well rehearsed routines
Or playing from the heart?
It's hard for one to know

We are islands to each other
Building hopeful bridges
On a troubled sea
Some are burned or swept away
Some we would not choose
But we're not always free"

-Entre Nous by Rush

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