Keep hearing things that I didn’t say,
And that way,
Rather than working things out,
We’ll never know what the other is talking about,
We’ll talk round in circles,
With increasing frustration,
Assured of our stance,
And our participation,
But never quite grasping what’s happening between us,
With me being from Mars,
And you being from Venus,
For just like the tango,
For which it takes two,
Communication’s hard work,
For me and for you!
Tell me about it. Yesterday, after I posted that piece about the Boston Bomber, called, “He Lies There,” Tobbe told me he thought it was about him. I’m still not sure how because of all the references to explosions and blood and sedation and morphine drips, though somehow he read something completely different into it. Funny how that happens. Anyway, I explained what it was really about and we had a good laugh about it afterwards.
Glad to hear it’s not just my situation. Sometimes it’s like we speak two different languages, which of course do in a way.