serious stuff

Mis-communication

This is hardly an original thought, I know, but I have often pondered how much easier life would be if you could just look inside your loved-one’s head and see exactly what he had going on in there. What crazy thoughts he had bubbling away.

Misunderstanding, misapprehension and downright fuzzy-headedness have been the bane of my life these last few weeks. As a compulsive communicator I find it most trying when folk continually refuse to just tell me everything. Not all the time of course, I’d never get anything done. Just when I ask.

Communication! That’s the key. Do not brood over worst case scenarios. Do not hold your tongue, assuming you will get an unfavourable response. Do not worry yourself into a mental implosion – just speak. What’s the worst that could happen? Really? Some pouting? A wee argument? Or, just perhaps, a smile and a hug and some chiding about what an irretrievable dafty you are.

Words, spoken without spite or anger, could never be as harmful as misguided silence. A problem, a fear or an annoyance will only get bigger and stronger if it’s left to fester in the dark.

Just say it, okay?

In my eternal drive to look on the bright side, I find one speck of comfort among these dark days. It transpires that, in fact…

I was right!

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