the weight of my words

Very few moments in life do we feel the luxury of absolute franchise, openness, honesty.  But after all, once there is nowhere left to run, who has the time left for deception?  How nice to have reached the end of the line where one no longer has to bandy words with a person.  You and I have finally reached that point, old friend.  The compulsion to window dress with words is over.  How strange to think that at one time everything between us seemed to depend on words.  Through their construct, I hoped to win your heart; through them again, I hoped to keep it.  I wasn’t merely as good as my word—I was my word, so much I depended on it.  Now, finally, the words come so effortlessly we need no longer weigh them to measure their potential to please, wound, convince, expel, conjure, abjure, injure.  When I used to worry you with my silences, I was mired in a loss for words.  I could never see past my addiction for the verbal and simply reach out my hand toward you with a reassuring caress…

Well, you are no longer here to caress, but at least I can stop my calculations and let someone else judge the weight of my words.

[From Peter’s journal, December 1990]

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2 Comments

Filed under Memoir

2 responses to “the weight of my words

  1. Wonderfully moving. Truth so simple and obvious that it hurts to be reminded.

  2. Had I not been away from this blog for too many days now, I would have realized I already posted these weighty words – and more. See below (the post for March 19). The second part of that earlier post would also stand on its own.
    Thank you Jack for sharing the blog with your Twitter followers!

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