Reading Between the Lines

*WARNING: What appears written here in no way applies to anyone who is genetically related to me. If my cell phone bill increases because of concerned family calling, I will be annoyed.*

Someone pointed out to me once that it is more or less impossible to follow the actual events of my life through my blog. My response to that was that is someone wants to know what is going on in my life they just need to talk to me. It's really not that hard.

Even though I attempt to keep my life out of my blog (and for the most part, do a fairly decent job) my writing is intensely personal. It always has been. I love words. I love what they can say, and what they can not say. I love how it looks when I write in a fancy script on a blank piece of paper. I love the colour and the shape of the letters. Most of all though, I love the space between the letters, the white space that is still there when the words are all written down. As much as our words can say, there is so much more said in those tiny spaces of white. They contain the words that we don't speak, the pleas that we don't make. It is the space in between the words that speaks so much more than we are willing to, but it's there. It's there is you are willing to look for it.

One of my more astute friends asked me how I was feeling this weekend. He had been reading my blog and was worried that I may be having some fluctuations in my moods over the past few weeks. He was right. But so far he's been the only one to notice that, and the only one who seems to care. It's hard when I don't have any desire to post my heart and soul on the Internet for any to read to get through to my friends that maybe I need someone to listen to me. It's hard because I can see in between the lines so clearly the words so many of my own unvoiced pleas, the need for some attention, the need for someone to call and just listen. I need someone to hear that maybe I need to get out of my house, or someone to hang on to for just a little while. There's so much more in the space between the lines that isn't just white. There are words there. There are colors. There are moods. There is what I am unwillingly to say, what I can't say and what I don't that I want to say there. It's there in the silences, in the noise, in the words and in the conversations. Take a second to look a little bit harder and not brush things off so quickly in everyone's life. I'm not the only one who has the white spaces between the letters or silences where there would otherwise be words. Take a chance and look for those. You would be amazed at what you can find out. And how you can help.