Apologetic Enough

You know what I hate? I hate it when you mess up in some way and you’re apologizing and the other person says out loud, “No, no, it’s fine,” or “Don’t worry, stuff happens,” but you notice their lips are still pursed a little or maybe they are just a little chillier than usual and you could be projecting, of course, but you still wonder. Is there some unspoken code you’re trespassing on? Are you expected to continue deploring your own behavior? And it’s all that unspoken stuff. The ambiguity kills me. The knowing that to press could only make it worse kills me more.

Some days I should not be allowed to leave the house. Or go online. Or answer the phone. My husband calls from Spain, and it’s not just the time zones, separating us, it’s reality zones. I’m in the middle of afternoon franticity of multitasking, the phone ringing while I practice with the five year old and I cannot tell from the caller i.d. the international call from the automated political campaigning call, and there are still so many things that must be done before the kids go to bed. Worse, I’ve just been struck with a problem I cannot solve by myself, a password I don’t have. Where he is, it’s 2 am, and he just needs to hear my voice before falling asleep. And we both recognize the collision happening, but neither of us can fix it.

What kills me is that I think my endless introspection, the toppling stacks of notebooks, the navel gazing, has given me, at least, a pretty good understanding of myself, of how I work, and thus a good guess about how people generally work (because I am not that special!) but it has not translated into any strong ability to read other people. Watching movies I miss the significance of nonverbal gestures, this character dropping her purse to tell you that character is dead, and I’m grateful Raven catches this stuff and will catch me up on the nuances patiently. So in my own life, I am compelled to ask questions, to clarify, to check and doublecheck my readings and interpretations. Simple, direct communication — it seems like it should be so easy, and the knots I get in when it isn’t! And that’s when I start getting locked in my head, with the self-consciousness and endless replays of situations I should have handled better.

Anyway, if I owe you an apology? I’m sorry.

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2 Responses to “Apologetic Enough”

  1. Marjorie Says:

    We should not watch movies together, then, I think. I’m always asking about those things, too–but I think I do know, I just don’t trust myself, which is not good.

  2. unreliable narrator Says:

    Dude, I totally hate that shit too. Does it mean “I judge your apology to be pathetically, oobviously insincere”? Does it mean “Never mind, you are clearly a fool; and since no apology could ever make up for your fundamental lack of intelligence, I am trying really hard to stop despising you and start pitying you”?

    Just throwin’ two more delightful possibilities out there! I know, what are friends for, right?!

    I shouldn’t be allowed to leave the house today, but they’re gonna make me….

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