Are we both speaking English?

Have you ever wondered what goes on in someone's head? Have you ever sat back and thought that sometimes they just must not understand? Has it ever boggled your mind so bad you just felt like never speaking again? I have definitely had these thoughts before.

It all started when I was younger and was trying to explain something to my parents. I felt as if I was being as clear as possible, but the responses that came out from them made me feel like I wasn't clear enough. I would say something along the lines of "I was out late last night, because Cory didn't get off work until midnight, and we had plans." Their response would be along the lines of "You haven't washed the dishes or cleaned your room in months, I think it is time you grow up." I would just blankly stare in confusion. They asked me why I was out late, I responded with a perfectly reasonable and truthful response, and that’s what I got for an answer. I never understood it, but I just chalked it up to parents being parents, and let it go.

As the years past, I met a girl and we became engaged. I’m not exactly sure how that happened; but my old counterpart confusion was about to make a reappearance again. I would be sitting at home watching some television when she would walk in the door, I’d ask how her day went, and I got "Why haven't you cleaned up?" Once again I blankly stared off, confused. I mean, for one, I did clean up, and two, what the hell does that have to do with how her day went? I’m pretty sure I was speaking English and I know I said it out loud. She must have translated it into "Guess why I cleaned up, but I made it appear as if I haven’t?" I mean there is just no other rational explanation.

More years went by and the old fiancée was gone as well and I had met some new friends. Some of these new friends, however, seemed to have the same problem as my parents and ex-fiancee. It didn’t really matter what I would say, it could have been as simple as “I will be in a red car,” and low and behold they just couldn't remember what the color red looked like. I once again spent my days staring off into this big cloud of confusion.

That’s when I started questioning my ability to communicate. I assumed if almost everyone I have ever known couldn't understand what was coming out of my mouth, it must be at a minimum partially my fault. I started repeating things, to the point it pissed people off. If I was having a conversation, midway through I would stop and attempt to summarize exactly what I was trying to get across before continuing. I believe I developed this as a coping mechanism for all those times I was forced to blankly stare off, and wonder why my English was not the same as everyone else’s. I ended up doing this so often, I would do it to myself—force of habit I guess, but if I needed to do something that day, I would jot down a note, program a reminder on my phone, and ask whoever else around to remind me. It wasn't because I have a bad memory, more because I was just used to having to do that for everyone else to give them the ability to understand.

A little more time passes and I meet my future wife. She is wonderful. She understands me. Repeating is no longer necessary, but I can't shake it; been with me too long I guess. I do put an effort into not doing it when speaking with her, but since my days are filled with repeating instructions over and over to other people, I sometimes forget and do it to her as well. I know she knows I mean nothing by this, in fact I have explained all this to her numerous times before, probably all in the same conversation, repeated one after the other, but still I have explained it. For some reason though, this explanation only seems to make sense to her once in a while. Some days she lets it slide, some days she wants to kill me. I ask her what really bothers her about it, and she never gives an answer besides, it just does.

Once again I sit confused. I have explained; she even says she understands, yet at times, it is reason for arguing. Sometimes the argument—valid or not—switches over to a pissing contest about how many times I have repeated myself. I can't help it though, and when I am upset I get even worse. I notice it happening, but now I feel even stronger that being clear is more important than ever, so I ask the same questions, and start off with the same sentences over and over, just to make sure I am getting it straight.

You know... when you were younger and a message was passed down the line that started off as You have a white shirt on, but by the time it reached the front of the line it came out as: White shirts, purple monkey dishwasher? So I try to keep the topic the same, well at least I try to maintain some general understanding of what it is we are talking about. My ability to do that revolves around repetition.

I never have and probably never will fully understand what exactly it is that makes communicating in the same language so difficult, in fact I am not even sure if what I have just written will communicate what I was trying to get across, so I will sum it up for you.

When I used to talk with people I never felt like they understood my train of thought, I always believed it was because I wasn't being clear. I now realized thanks in part to my wife, that people will hear or say whatever they want because getting a point across is completely different from just plain old bitching. People will only half listen to what you have to say, because in all honesty they just don't care. It is futile to try to understand why this happens this way so I will stop trying to figure it out. Maybe after all I was just hearing what I wanted, and it is me that just doesn’t get it.

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