And our eyes met.

Leaning against the pillar, her fingers busy kneading her phone, she looked up and glanced around, and our eyes met. But for a split second, and in that split second, she told me everything about her.


Was exhausted from the concert, so I leaned against the pillar while waiting for my mum to be done with her autograph signing. While replying a message, I looked around, and for a split second, my eyes met the usher's and in that brief moment, i felt as if he understood me.


She told me the mixed feelings she had, feelings of pride because of her mother's accomplishments, and yet awkwardness because her mother was more of a status than a person, that is to say her mother didn't understand her well, and was too busy making her own career that she didn't have much time to understand her.


In that brief meeting of the pupils, he saw a glimpse of me, seeing who I truly was. While mentally scolding myself for being so defenseless before him, part of me argued back, questioning the length of time I had gone misunderstood, unknown and forgotten.


Her eyes, the window to her soul, gave me a glimpse into her helpless superficiality. To be proud, on the outside, of her mother and her accomplishments, yet, on the inside, a single molecule of pride she felt did not exist. She longed to be understood, and accepted, but her accomplishments always went unnoticed, unseen, unheard.

I wish I knew her.