Some of my favorite conversations have happened in pitch blackness, in the dead of night, in the most unexpected places. They have happened when I least expected them and certainly never when I planned them.
Those conversations, punctuated by long stretches of silence that tiptoe precariously toward tears that you can't quite explain, are typically the ones that reveal the most. The words muttered in hushed tones while heads are buried in hands tend to be the most honest. And the most overdue.
Words are good. However, I'm usually not very good with them in the out loud, off the cuff manner. But they're good nonetheless.
And sometimes, sometimes they just need to come out and there is nothing you can do to keep them in. Because it's nearly suffocating you to stifle them.
I've had a dozen or so conversations like this in my short lifetime. They're almost always prompted by some question that is some variation of "What's wrong?" or "Is everything okay?" There's no screaming or yelling or noticeable act or sign of distress. The other person just knows.
And maybe that's why these conversations are so dear to me. The person on the other end is usually someone who understands those parts of me better than I was able to comprehend before that point.
Always, they have to nearly pry the information out of my sealed, vice-like lips. But they do. They wait. They prod. And they do it with such care and tenderness that I know I have to say those words I never wanted to give life to and unveil those parts of myself that I work so tirelessly to keep locked up tight.
It's these conversations that make me realize that all of those things that I stubbornly vaulted in the deepest, darkest corner of my mind were the things that, if I would only let go of them, would be the very thing that would set me free.
Even more, these conversations reveal the most honest, vulnerable parts of people. Coincidentally, these also happen to be the most beautiful parts of them.
In the darkness and the silence I've seen some of the clearest moments and heard some of the loudest testimonies of genuine kindness.
I've found the brightest enlightenment in these darkest of moments. Words have that effect, in the wrong place, at the wrong time with the right pair of hushed voices and the right sets of amiable ears.
