“I take thee at thy word. Call me but love, and I’ll be new baptized” (Romeo & Juliet Act2, Scene2)
I love words. Nevertheless, I am often misunderstood. I might have studied so many foreign languages for the sole sake of expanding my verbal repertoire. Words don’t seem to be enough. I am lost in communication.
Maybe my linguistic studies helped me to practice translating myself to the others; whether they spoke my mother tongue or not. People who say one thing and mean another one talk in a language I will never be able to understand. I am honest through and through. Honest in the superficial laughter I might share with you as well as honest in the deepest feelings I offer you. My honesty makes me vulnerable to all the drama, the stingers, the exaggerations and the lies I am confronted with day by day. I cannot connect, although I yearn to do so.
However, I have a weapon – it is called language. Underneath an armor of words, I hide my Achilles soul. You would never guess it’s there…I can either smile and chatter until it vanishes, or I can explain and argue it away.
Words come too easy. Your words as well. Your words that know how to pinpoint weaknesses. Your words that pronounce promises you never intend to keep. Your words that describe emotions you are not capable of. I have tried to trust you, tried to understand you, to translate the misunderstandings so I could live with them and could go on living with you. I have failed.
I will work hard to learn your language. Over and over again – because after you are gone, there will be a new teacher of cruelty and delusion, I know. I know all the words, yet I don’t know how to use them. I am not able to say “don’t go any further” when you cross over into my heart and skillfully re-write its emotional dictionary. You set the boundaries, not me. I let you go on. And then I let you go, when the last straw breaks the camel’s neck. My neck will be broken just like my heart. I am not able to realize I have been deceived again until it is too late.
You must believe me, though, that if you had ever cared to dig a little deeper you would have found a tremendous silence which exists below all my words. A silence so loud it drowns your voice. It’s the silence of truth, my dear, the silence of being true to oneself.
But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue. (Hamlet Act 1, Scene 2)
This is an article I wrote for Hidden You where stories about life as an introvert you can relate to by focusing on the creativity, intelligence, and accomplishments of introverts are being shared.