I know you’ve seen a lot of things in your life,
Got you feeling like this can’t be right,
But I won’t hurt you, I’m down for you baby…– Keyshia Cole, TRUST
I am sorry to disturb you whilst you are working, but can I just say something?
I had called you earlier because I cared.
I care. Still…
I was genuinely calling you because I wanted to make sure you were okay and see how you were doing.
I wasn’t calling you to scold you. But I am concerned that you imagine I would.
I wasn’t upset with you. But I am worried that you imagine I would be.
I just cared. But I am scared that you don’t seem to.
I just cared. Was that my sin?
You should know by now that I constantly have to fight the need to defend myself. I know I shouldn’t, but you know that in our field of work, it’s second nature, and in my area of expertise, I need to get my point across.
Perhaps I should just stay silent.
Perhaps I should take the imagined offence. Isn’t that what I had advised you to do just the other day?
I don’t want to make this about me though. It really is not. In a way, it never has been. Maybe that is part of the problem?
The problem of miscommunication.
The problem of misunderstanding.
The problem of misreading.
I actually went back to read some of the messages I had sent you over the past week. Just to see what I had said, and whether I had left any space for ambiguity within my words. Maybe you should try that, because when I went back to our messages, do you know what I found?
Morning greetings replied to hours later.
Or worse, one word replies.
Dear. Dearie. Your term of endearment is no longer endearing, maybe because I see past the term and only see the space between it and every message I have sent you.
I don’t feel dear. And yet, I care. Still…
The space around me feels weird, and as I write this, it feels as if the room is spinning, which probably says more about how I feel writing this than anything else I could continue to write…