Day 39: The Things We Ought to Say

I wonder why it is we don't say the things we ought to say. I've been practicing with Rich. Whenever something pops into my head to say to him, instead of sending it through a jumble of should-I-keep-this-to-myself filters, I just spit it out. Yesterday it worked out well when I blurted out, "I think you're really handsome," blushing like a school girl with a crush. But last week he handed me a sample of some dish he'd made for work. Filters away, I said, "Yeah, it's not that good," and smiled my honest grin. This time he was the one crushed and he might not be as excited about my filter-free approach.

Why do we wait until we have to write recommendations or sympathy cards before we say what is inside us? Why are we so fearful to speak our love out loud?

I want to tell my Alaskan brother that I am so proud of his accomplishments. He's this incredible writer who's now a pilot and a father. He's intelligent and he's kind. But I can't even pick up the phone to say a single word. Why is that?

I want to tell my roommate from college that she is so brave to create a life on her own, while the rest of us have gone the way of boyfriends and husbands and constant companionship. She is independent and beautiful and she's never settled for anything but the best. I want to tell her I love her for who she is, but I can't be bothered to even remember her phone number.

There are a hundred people, scattered across this country, people who I love and respect and admire because they have touched my life in some way. And they probably have no idea. What would happen if we picked up our phones, our pens, our laptops and scribbled out the words that we ought to say?

Perhaps our somewhat empty hearts would begin to fill again, perhaps the people around us would know their own worth.