Hiding feelings

I am not really too switched on at the moment. Selling the family home after thirty years and cleaning out accumulated rubbish and moving to a tiny little unit in the city. But I don’t want to let my blog die after such a tortured nativity so I am recycling a few posts from my earlier life.

This poem tells of the universal problems inherent in the male/female communication. It is fairly close to a true story.

I have my own demons to deal with, she said

And if this ends up the way it very well might

I don’t feel up to dealing with your demons as well.

I’m only just coming to terms with who I am, she said

And if you ask too many questions

And seek too many insights

I’ll probably contradict myself trying to be too certain.

 If you decide to stay I’ll make you dinner.

I’ll make it anyway if you stay long enough

But if I know beforehand that you’ll be around

For even a little while

I’ll maybe go to a bit of extra effort.

Not that it’s any trouble, she said,

If you know what I mean.

No, I don’t know what she means.

Every time she says

“You know what I mean” I am lost.

Go away and leave me alone, she says.

Why do you want me to go away?

You know, she says.

No! I don’t know.

Whatever we do we must not fall in love, she said.

You can say it if you want

But don’t mean it or we’ll both be in all sorts of trouble.


I have my own demons to deal with.

How long will you be away, I said.

Well my passport doesn’t expire for four years.

I planned on telling her I’d miss her

Because that way she’d know that deep down

I maybe did love her.

But every time we started to talk

It was about what she’d done at work that day.

Will you miss me? She said,

All flippant and facetious.

 Actually I will in a strange perverse sort of a way, I said.

That didn’t say what I meant it to say..

Now I’ll never be able to say what I meant to say.

How long will you be away, I said.

‘til August, she said. Will you miss me?

 Actually I will, I said. In a strange perverse sort of way.

Conversations never work out like I planned.

Before, I had planned it all out.

I’d say this – she’d say that.

I’d say such and such – she’d say this and that.

I never planned what to say if she said something different.

“You know, I’m actually going to miss you,” I would say.

And she’d say nothing but look understanding

And deep down she’d know what I really meant

And if it was the wrong thing to say

She’d ignore it and no one would be hurt

Are you going to miss me, she said.

 I hadn’t planned that.

Actually I will, I said.

And I was all flippant and facetious.

And I don’t know if she even heard me

Flippant or not.

You know what I mean.

No. I don’t know what you mean, she said.

 And I have my own demons to deal with.

I hope you enjoy yourself in America, I said.

I will, she said.

Will you miss me? She said.

 No. I said. Not as much as before.

Why not, she said.

Because I’m protecting myself.

But what if I actually want you to miss me?

Then I guess we’ll never know, I said.


7 thoughts on “Hiding feelings

  1. There is so much truth in this. Thank you. I want to say more about how much this rings true emotionally for me, but part of what makes it ring true emotionally is that the feelings behind the words are ineffable…if that makes any sense. Either way, I enjoyed this a lot.


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