Do we know each other?

What does it really mean to know someone? You can spend years, even decades with a person, and still not know who they truly are. Whether it's a family member, friend, or significant other, perhaps we should be more mindful of who our loved ones really are.

I bought "Life After God" by Douglas Coupland as a Christmas present for my brother a couple of years ago, but somehow it has landed back in my apartment. I recommend it to any twenty-something, as I guarantee at least one of Coupland's stories will hit home.

"She says to me, but were we ever intimate? How intimate were we
really? Sure, there were the ordinary familiarity-type things- our
bodies, our bodily discharges and stains and seepages, an encyclopedic
knowledge of each other's family grudges, knowledge of each other's
early school yard slights, our dietary peccadilloes, our TV remote
control channel-changing styles...

And yet?

And yet in the end did we ever really give each other completely to
the other? Do either of us even know how to really share ourselves?
Imagine the house is on fire and I reach to save that one thing-- what
is it? Do you know? Imagine that I am drowning and I reach within
myself to save that one memory which is me-- what is it? Do you know?
What things would either of us reach for? Neither of us know. After
all these years we just wouldn't know...."