Talk less, say more

My cranium is crammed full and heavy with the things I do not say. This is a reoccurring issue for me, and one that I suspect a therapist would get wealthy trying to understand. (I'm talking like wallpapering the master bedroom in Benjamin Franklins wealthy.) I suspect if my lovely brain was wrung out by gloved hands, a billion silvery thoughts would escape down the drain- with a majority of those thoughts being things I wish would have said, but never did.

And it's one of those quirks that gets more annoying as I get older.

To some people in my life, I say everything that I don't need to say and nothing that I do. I talk all the time unless I should say something and then I become a clueless mute with an intense interest in pocket lint. I spill my feelings about El Nino and Britney Spears and suit coats with side vents but to a few select people in my life, saying something that's important, that's necessary has never been something I could do.

And I hate that.

The funny part is, the things I want to say are good. I have no boiling rage, no intense regrets, no scary admissions. Really. I'm full of nice things to say, I just don't say them. I have insightful compliments and thoughtful condolences, encouraging observations and a few lovely secrets that I know would make people burst with happiness. I know this. And knowing I could say these things and make people feel good is what makes them necessary to say. But yet, I say nothing.

And I don't know why.

Maybe because saying nice things is more work than joking around. Or maybe it's because I've said the nice things and it didn't work out. Or maybe I talk without saying anything because it's less scary. One must always go through the scenario that after saying all your nice things you will be rewarded with the painful sound of crickets.

And really, who wants to risk that?

I suppose this is why they invented Hallmark.