the guy i liked

On Facebook, the ABOUT tab has an about you section.  Years ago, as a sophomore who yearned to be understood as creative, I wrote: “I’m in love with words.”

Somehow, in my immature and younger mind, I comprehended the power and beauty of words.

I had just began this blog and felt a deep need to write.  My blogger page became my sole place of honesty (to a degree) and ritual.

A place, I found freedom to voice my opinion and emotions.  I could be real without the confrontation of negating eyes or vulnerability before another.  I wasn’t using writing as a mask to hide behind, but rather a medium of learning how to be confidant in my own voice.  And in a way, to discover its true sound.

Therefore, I was surprised when a friend of mine commented on the solidity of my words.  Using my love for them as an example of what I say or do not say.  Reminding me that because of this love, I was due to complete honesty and mediated spoken words.  I hadn’t realized others would comprehend me as one who only speaks without fault or without mindlessness.

Do you understand?  I was told that since I value words so much, the escape of the tongue (a thoughtless word) never happens.

Even a mediated thought, processed and well thought of can still, to a degree, be thoughtless.

But this, my friends, is the beauty of words.

When that moment comes.

A moment of true thoughtlessness, when speech happens and you do not control a thing.  You speak and then your mind automatically goes in auto correct or stumbles to find a way to cover up your slipped confession.  In this moment, a deep truth breaks forth.  Perhaps, a truth you never wanted to admit or forgot existed or lost along the way resurfaces.  Like a trigger it releases a certain amount of hidden truth you perhaps buried deep within your quiet heart.

“The guy I liked…” I heard myself say, an alarm in my brain went off.  Where did those words come from?  I thought.  Puzzled, I quickly went to fix my thoughtless words, “The guy…. that guy,” I tried, but found I was too surprised by myself.  A light chuckle escaped my lips and I shook my head, saying the guy’s name and smiling at the friend I was speaking with.

We both laughed.  I finished my story.

Later, I realized my tongue had escaped from running its words through my brain.  Among the months of repression and denial, I had forgotten that to one degree those words were very much true.

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