there is an art to it. a willingness to rip yourself apart and bare the things that no one sees. you mustn’t speak in metaphors and hyperbole, or disguise the thoughts with other things – the things that hide substance in an attempt to make it clear.
you don’t get a delete button.
or a backspace.
or a cntrl+a, cntrl+x.
there’s an honesty to thoughts coming out and finding wholeness in the spoken word. a finality, a reality. a word spoken is a word played. there is no going back.
i didn’t mean it. that came out wrong. i’m sorry. forgive me. i don’t know what i’m saying. these are just words.
these phrases come out and are garbage. crumple them up, lift the lid, and roll the bin down to the curb; garbage.
there are pauses and unspokens. a struggle with lips and tongue and voice box. a commingling of the mind with all all these moving parts that might get something wrong. it’s that very fear which leaves the void, the silence, the unspokens like a nookie blanket, guarding you from everything that might not go right.
it’s the mask of listening. of hearing. of reiterating what’s said and asking a follow up question. it’s the keeping the other person going so that you don’t have to say anything.
it’s keeping yourself safe, when all the other person wants is you to speak dangerously. to speak vulnerably.
there’s a trench you must dig, and sit in. you have to be willing to be there, to sit still, to keep focused. and the only thing keeping you there is that openness. that willingness to let it all come out in an audible form. to be messy and ugly and wrong to get at what’s right.
i’m awful at this.
the quiet type is mine. the one that listens and lets others do the above while i offer nothing but an ear and an acceptance and maybe a few encouragements or redirects.
instead i turn to my fingers. to the keys of a board that puts words on a page. to a delete button. a backspace key. a cntrl+a, cntrl+x opportunity.
it’s where i fall short. the conversing is where i fail. where i will say my best isn’t good enough. it’s not a lack of love. a lack of care. a lack of need. it’s a flaw, plain and simple. and it’s a flaw i promise i’m working on.