You will only know glimpses of the struggles and wishes of others. You will only hear a fraction of their woes, of what you make them feel. So much of their love, so much of their hatred will forever be beneath the surface.
It is there, it is bloody and real, but it is hidden from you.
Accept that, from the waves, you will never see the ocean floor, and that mystery will blossom into a dark and unending beauty.