Seeing is believing

I may have become an anthropophobic in recent times, but it didn't apply to a whole set of others who I felt were pretty content leading an almost perfect life. The myth was shattered last night. The final nail to this coffin being the rather vulnerable side I saw of a person who for me led the most carefree and content life. Material and career demands notwithstanding, all these hoopla about relationships and the opposite sex never enticed him, or so I felt. But last night he sat there pouring out his insecurities, venting out all pent up frustrations. With every pint of beer, the conversation seemed to turn into a sort of Oprah. One gave advices and the other couldn't believe how relative everything had become. 

And all the while, I just sat in the opposite corner thinking to myself "This is it. The last straw." I realized that if he was capable of feeling and tolerating such trauma, then we were no different after all.