Misms

I think I may be boring Mr TGTBT. During his last visit we exchanged a few words of the 'words' type and experienced a little of that irritability that healthy relationships sometimes do. As opposed to the aggressively quiet silences of unhealthy relationships (last sentence delivered of course with a wry smile).

Now some of the words caused instant little 'ouches' in my heart and, having learned of late not to let the ouches go unheeded, I duly declared them. Drawing himself up to the full height of his acronym, Mr TGTBT lived up to his name and apologised for ouching me, looking quite mortified that he had done so. Not to be outdone, I in turn apologised for being a little over-sensitive and felt mortified that I had been the cause for such mortification on his part. I think he may well have then apologised for something else, with me following suit. And so on. And so forth. Until we ran out of things to apologise for. It was of course all conducted with the kind of sugar-coated indecency that left us both clearly at risk of hyperglycemic coma, covered in candy coated sweet nothings.

There were however some other words. Not ouchy ones, but 'mism' ones. Words that don't insist on an immediate reaction but that sit around in your head waiting for you to pay attention, having rang a little bell on their way in. They are perfectly happy sitting patiently, humming a little now and then to while away the time ... until a time comes like now, when they have to be processed.

Now Mr TGTBT is, as I have discovered, quite capable of belligerence in his expression but it is more likely the belligerent delivery that causes ouches than any genuine desire to offend. The belligerence is only a result of some momentary emotional chaos, no different to my caustic attitude when moodiness takes over from common sense. With Mr TGTBT, as with me, anything we want to say that we really need the other person to take heed of but that may also be liable to upset them will be delivered with a great dollop of 'mism'ness. You see, Mr TGTBT didn't want to actually say I was boring in case I got upset.

I recall one of my apologies was for talking too much. Which I had been. And with the best will in the world - bearing in mind the emotional turmoil recently experienced - Mr TGTBT didn't stand a chance of understanding my excited gabble. So he merely smiled gently at my apology and said I did sound a little like a 'reformed sinner'. He also kissed me just to be certain there was sufficient mism'ness. Because he's nice like that.

Now. Whilst having a little housekeeping of the mind while relaxing in the bath tonight I came across his mism and picked it up for processing. On doing so I was struck by it's familiarity, the strangest sensation of having coming across this mism before.

Of course I had. In a not very successful attempt at self-delusion I had given the mism to Mr TGTBT in the course of my apology. I may well have apologised for talking too much but deep down knew full well I had been banging on about the benefits of something I have learned (and am in fact still learning) in a desperate attempt to convert him too. Banging on like a reformed sinner. As I was unable to admit to myself the fact I was being boring I gave Mr TGTBT a mism for an apology. A euphemism.

Mr TGTBT just picked up the mism, dusted it off and sent it right back from whence it came, with some care, some love and a desire to be honest without offence. It worked. I now know I was boring but I don't mind. A man with a penchant for misms is a man with a heart ... as seasoned readers will know, it's those with fizms you have to worry about.

Yours in hope, AJ x