We've got the same heart.
I find this whole business quite strange at times.
(Things that I do not understand, I call them strange. Yes.)
There are those who willingly bare all, leaving no stones unturned, leaving no questions unanswered.
Then there are those who feed you teasingly with bits and pieces of their lives, hanging out of reach like a puzzle stubbornly out of place.
Some work for publications, banks, multi-national corporations, earning comfortable salaries and getting to jet around the world as part of their job.
Some give you peeks on their healthy social life, their love for fine wine and dining, or their most recent retail therapy – that you can almost hear the moans of their credit cards.
Some let you in on the more personal: details of an intimate relationship gone wrong; struggles over drug addictions; his inner conflicts; her dearest dreams.
Reading their accounts and tribulations could make you think you are watching a real-life soap opera, shrugging it off as free-to-air entertainment; or it could make you forge new relationships of the most subtle kind – ones where only you know them but they do not know you.
Yet you are happy over their achievements; worry for their well-being; share in their joy; understand exactly what they are going through.
So he shares his tips on how he embraced parenthood, swiftly becoming adept to the world of diapers, sanitised milk bottles, and no longer having to climb out of bed in a daze at three in the morning.
And she recalls feeling strangely flustered and wishing she could freeze the moment when he slowly popped a ring into her trembling finger.
They worry over the fact that he has not been writing for more than a week, leading to speculations of his passing, their fears compounded even more now that his website is inaccessible.
If you do not feel affected at all by this whole business… then what are you, really?
You read them. It is as much as letting them into your life as you did into theirs, only if you so choose.