I’m often reminded that communication is an imperfect thing, and there’s no way to make it perfect.
During one of our personal/sex-ish/us type conversations, B mentioned something about my worry about not being able to be experimental. Or something. “Experimental?” I asked. “Is that not the word you used?” he said. “I don’t know,” I answered. “I don’t remember what you’re talking about.” And that was the end of that exchange, though it felt like we were attempting to talk about something important. I honestly didn’t know what he was talking about, couldn’t remember ever having said anything like that. If I had said something about being experimental, I might have been joking or teasing, or referring to not being very experimental just yet. It’s something that has obviously stuck in B’s mind, and I don’t recall it at all. It makes me wonder how accurate our impressions of each other are. I used to think B was shy, but now I realize it was more that he was just unsure of me, not of himself. How different are our rememberings and misrememberings? In what ways are we going to have miscommunicated when we had thought we were clear? It’s not easy to formulate such new and intimate thoughts and feelings into just the right words. And even if I think I’ve found the right words, I can’t be sure that he’s taking them how I intend them. Feelings conveyed through tongue-tied speech and cautious action. It’s no wonder that relationships are such a muddle. I’ll never know just how B feels. I can only know what he shows and tells, filtered through my own perception.