It sounds absurd when stated baldly, but we do not always – at some deep level – understand that we need to speak to those whom we so badly wish would understand us. We long for our intentions to be known, for our moods to be honoured, for our states of mind to be read – but we do not for that matter want to speak or particularly see an urgent need to do so. We want to be guessed at, intuited, read by a kind of magic we don’t realise we believe in. We want people to know what we have not bothered to tell them. We may even, in certain moods, suspect that they know full well what we think and want – but are deliberately frustrating us in order to score points and humiliate us. The only explanations for them not having guessed already is rudeness, a lack of love or extreme stupidity
- The School of Life
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