The People Who Know Our Little Languages

I think we create little languages with people without ever realizing we're doing it.

Not real languages, obviously.

There are no grammar rules. No dictionaries.

They're made of smaller things.

A particular look across a room.

A smile that lasts half a second longer than it should.

A joke nobody else understands.

The teasing hidden inside an otherwise perfectly innocent message.

A song sent without explanation because somehow the lyrics can say what neither person is quite brave enough to type.

Sometimes it's even silence.

And perhaps that's what fascinates me most about certain connections.

At some point, without deciding to do it, two people begin learning each other's language.

You recognize the difference between their real smile and their polite one.

You know when they're teasing even if the words sound completely innocent.

You understand what a song means when it arrives at exactly the right moment.

No explanation necessary.

You just know.

I remember watching a horror movie with someone once.

For the record, I am terrible with horror movies.

Absolutely terrible.

I always convince myself I'll be fine.

I never am.

At some point, I became genuinely scared.

I didn't say anything.

I didn't need to.

I made the smallest movement.

That was it.

And somehow, he understood.

He pulled me against his chest and covered my eyes.

Then he told me not to look yet because the worst part wasn't over.

Which, firstly, was not particularly reassuring.

Thank you very much.

I still can't watch that movie today, so apparently his emergency intervention wasn't quite as effective as we'd hoped 🤭

But that's not why I remember it.

I remember it because I hadn't asked.

I hadn't explained.

I hadn't said, "I'm scared."

He simply understood my language.

One movement.

That was all it took.

And I think there is something incredibly intimate about being understood like that.

Sometimes it's knowing what a movement means.

What a look means.

What that song means.

What the teasing underneath a message really says.

The world hears the words.

But certain people hear everything underneath them.

Maybe that's why songs become so important too.

There are things we can say perfectly well ourselves.

And then there are feelings for which, apparently, we require professional assistance from musicians.

So we send the song.

No explanation.

Just:

Listen to this.

And somewhere between the first verse and the chorus, an entire conversation happens without either person saying another word.

I love that.

And I think that's why, even after people move through our lives, pieces of those little languages remain.

A song comes on unexpectedly.

A familiar joke appears somewhere.

You see that movie you still refuse to watch.

And for one second, you remember.

Not necessarily with sadness.

Sometimes you simply smile.

Because once, someone understood something about you without needing you to explain it.

And you understood them too.

Maybe those moments become little treasures in our memories.

Evidence of a time when another human being learned enough of our language to understand the things we couldn't quite say.

A song that will always say more than it should.

A look you can still remember perfectly.

A moment when you didn't have to say, "I'm scared."

Because someone already knew.

Most people probably keep those things in their memories.

I suppose I do too.

I just have a slight problem.

Eventually, mine tend to find their way onto pages 🤭🤍

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