She couldn’t make it happen.
It wasn’t going to happen, so she had to take control. Control, it made her think of behaviour exhibited by bully bosses and loud mouths whose booming voices commanded attention but lacked moral command. No matter, talk was…Hot air, wouldn’t cut it in the long term, just energy expended in exchange for the immediate. Loud voices, doubling, tripling up – a one man crowd, 'they should', 'why don’t they', 'that’s my idea', and so on...
It wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t going to move things on for them, for her. She had to make something occur that would change this situation. All those words, spoken as though he meant them were purpose-less. Her listening was meant to placate, facilitate, accommodate, she was prepared to compromise. But, he just talked on. Talk was not change. Change was in deed.
I don’t understand why you’ve doing it, he told her.
Why don’t you ask me then? Her thoughts.
We’ve talked, you wanted us to talk, and then you go and do this, were you listening to a word I said (him).
Every word you said. Every emission of moist warm air that arose from your mouth, released with the action-less words you spoke (her thoughts).
How can we go forward if you’re going to take the decisions in your hands ? (him).
We’re not (thoughts).
I really don’t know what else to say to you (him).
That’s just as well ‘cause I’ve heard enough and am fed up listening (thoughts).
So here she was, man-less, power-full. Realising, in the post-trauma of thought, that her reliance on his plan for them was never going to work; and that we could share plans with others, but ultimately we needed a plan of our own.
©SpokenLike, 2008 (all rights reserved)
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