When You Can't Explain

We’ve all been there, on the outside we’re functioning normally, no one would know anything was wrong to look at us. Meanwhile on the inside there is a dull ache, refusing to diminish, that is impossible to put words to, mainly because the cause of it is something no one else would understand, even if you could.

You say a word, or a sentence, that you say only because it makes you feel a little better to acknowledge the inexplicable pain, out loud, even though you know you are really only talking to yourself. And then, someone hears you, picks up on what was almost a murmur, not meant to be acknowledged, and you hear them say, “I understand.”

Maybe it is the shared expression on your faces, or the lilt of your voice when you name the pain with words that the person picks up on. Then you say, “I know it doesn’t make sense, but this is how I’m feeling.” And they say again, “I understand.”

The next words are often, “I know it seems silly . . .” and they say “This is why I understand.” And soon you discover that yes, they do understand, and the thing you could not put words to, suddenly needs none, because they understand. And so do you.