Bent Words

Bent Words

December 30, 2007

Sometimes that’s all it takes. A moment to remember. A single snap to forget. A blink of truth to fulfill an entire decade of misunderstanding. Sometimes we feel better after such revelations, especially if we’ve been searching, hunting, trying with our whole hearts to fully remember, forget or find that small piece of gnomic absolution. And sometimes we just feel worse; after all, it doesn’t change the way things are – it only sheds light on the dark paths behind us.

It seems the price was high – we had to learn it all by ourselves, for a thorn of experience is worth an entire wilderness of warning.

She blames him for not calling when she’s the one waiting by the phone. He blames her for lashing out over ‘the same old thing’ when he doesn’t lift a finger to change what is within his power to change. She charges him with not understanding when she hasn’t heard a word of his and he’s only left to follow suit. It’s simple once you’ve walked away, turned the corner and paused to think it over – and what of the travail if you’d only stayed! Surely it would be twice as hard when these mistakes are all actions you cannot take back. When all you have is that irreparable moment that changes the future forever.

Perhaps that’s why they need a better, more apologetic word than ‘sorry.’

‘Sorry’ means you’ve bumped into the girl carrying coffee to a table within a crowded restaurant. It means you didn’t quite catch the person’s name on the other line. You forgot your pen, the tip, the name of the person who dropped by to say hello.

‘Sorry’ – it doesn’t quite cover the mishaps of the heart. The mistakes, the misunderstandings, the moments, the snaps, the blinks… Because if it could – if it could scoop up all the wrong, hide the blunders under the rug, sweep clean the slate – maybe we’d have a slightly better chance and maybe we wouldn’t have to start all over again, armed with our costly revelations and expensive truths.

For who out there is so rich with time to begin it again and again? Who is that free? Who isn’t tired of having to explain, of trying to remember of seeking the truth or of working hard to forget? Why can’t it be that we just give each other a little leeway while we’re there – while we’re in it – while we have the foundation already laid?

And has there ever been a reward for the one with the DNF?

Written at 10:05 p.m.