I can remember everything I hear, I have transcribed entire conversations sometimes years later.
I tell him this one evening
that’s… that’s a really useful ability. Talent, I should say, it’s a talent
I wanted to correct him, it is not really a talent.
I remember every stupid thing I have ever said. Every cruel thing ever said to me.
This is not useful.
I should have added then that I feel an usually high percentage of the stupid things I have said, have been said in conversations with him.
When speaking to him I have trouble with the content, settling often on the inane and irksome. Problematic also is the sequencing, the order of words in sentences about the weather is garbled, sometimes I use the antonym of what I actually mean.
Reprieve
Reprisal
Knowing it was wrong, but unable to course-correct the train of syllables as they left the station of my mouth.
It may get easier over time, the way he makes me irrationally nervous.
I say irrationally though it might be entirely rational knowing how exacting and conscious he is of…
everything.
I worry he thinks I’m an idiot.
I worry I might actually be an idiot.
But then I carry on intelligent conversations, filled with quick banter and wish he was there to witness it.
If my memory had some external audio output I would make a best of tape “Times Julia Sounded Smart and Witty (That Will Make Up For All the Other Times)”
I can only hope to see him just as nervous, to capture his blunders in a highlight reel “Times He Sounded Stupid (That Will Make Up For All The Times You Felt Condescended To)”
For times just like this.
