There’s A Thin Line
If you love someone, let them know. But, what if letting them know causes them pain? Should you be Diogenean and let them know anyway? If you don’t, isn’t the omission a lie? What about the obligation of the secret-keeper? If there’s no tangible relationship, what is the extent of the obligation? Good qveshchun, meine boychick. As for an answer, I have none.
Somebody once said that I used ‘too many words’ to describe a particular matter I was working on. In what I do, precision is paramount, further, it is my nature to be as exact as possible, except when drinking to excess, in which case, I typically give not a f*ck. Otherwise, I want to be exactly understood and anyone who has had an interaction with anyone else similarly gifted with the power of speech knows full well that it’s easy to be misunderstood. It could be argued that most of my colleagues make nice livings from situations in which people misunderstand the intent of the other or, more likely, seek to capiltalise on the lack of at least realisation of what is truly meant at the time of a given interaction that in some way binds two parties together. So, to my now former peer I say, “Dash you – I, like Mozart, use neither too few nor too many words but instead, exactly enough to convey what I actually mean.” Harumph.
Even so, no numerable quantity of words can be sufficiently precise so as to convey exact meaning. The audience has limits and does the entity making the communication. Enter massive swathes of grey. Add emotion to the interaction and soon, many things remain unsaid.
“If loving you is wrong, then I don’t wanna be right.” But if it’s wrong, how can you accept it, that is, if you’re a moral person? And why would I want to love a person who is not moral? Could I ever trust that person? Trust that my love, so freely given, wouldn’t be denigrated and abused and ultimately discarded as being valueless because it is free? That is the love given by one without self-esteem and probably without esteem of the love-object.
Too complicated, this human-interaction thing. I’m glad I only have to deal with words at the moment. They love me and I love them. They are mine forever.