Maybe If I Stand on One Leg Under a Full Moon

So the universe decided to challenge my fear of silence and raised me from two to three estranged family members!

Since then, I've spent an embarrassing amount of time explaining myself. Explaining the impact. Explaining why something hurt, why it still hurts, why the past isn't really the past when the same patterns keep showing up wearing different outfits. I kept thinking there must be some magical arrangement of words I hadn't tried yet. Clearer words. Calmer words. Better examples. Maybe a diagram. Maybe if I stand on one leg under a full moon while holding a laminated copy of Nonviolent Communication. Surely if I could just make myself understood, something would finally click and we could meet somewhere in the middle.

I'm starting to understand that sometimes there is no better explanation. There isn't a perfect paragraph that turns a one-sided repair into a mutual one, and refusing to keep having the same conversation isn't the same as refusing to communicate. The silence did come, and I have complicated feelings about it. But maybe that's part of being in the middle too: learning that I can leave some things unresolved without making it my job to resolve them alone.