Y For X.

Y For X 

Meaning to say x, I said y. I realized the mistake a moment too late, and my face flushed red. Blushing too was inappropriate. In order to rectify the situation, I said y when really z would have been more acceptable, and was met with undignified silence (s). Thinking on my feet, I combined a self-depreciating anecdote containing a pop culture reference (g within m) with an attempt at physical intimacy, masked as an accidental touch of the elbow (i, masked as q). When this too, went down like a lead balloon, I panicked, following this with a semi-serious curse (a), and a hearty chuckle (b), hoping that b would counteract the possible negative implications of a - balancing each other out like two halves of the perfectly formed equation that they were, in some general sense, a naturally occurring copy of  -  or at the very least, working in conjunction, to create an entirely new meaning, c, which, although not independent, could in its way be interpreted as the beginning of a new line of conversation, C(a). As may be obvious by this stage, C(a) was where I had always meant to direct the conversation, and indeed my earlier gaff (y instead of x) was a misdirected attempt to lead myself to that point, (in theory, y leading naturally leading to k (k being a sweet romantic compliment) for her to then come back with a repeated k, enhanced by the introduction of  f (f being a broad, but powerful reference to some pleasant moment in our shared history,) to which I could draw the connection between f and x (hoping, in a best case scenario that x (x being the argument put forward that we should admit our undying love (l) for each other (to clarify: x being the argument, l being the actuality) ) and f would become completely entangled)  –meaning that C(a) could be reached as pleasantly, subtly, and romantically as possible.

Unfortunately, due to their proximity a (the curse) and b (the hearty chuckle) served only to enhance the negative interpretations of each value, which is in itself a mathematical truth (a positive integer multiplied by a negative integer will always become negative in value), something that I should have realized before I had even opened my mouth. I.e. a became -a2 (i.e. vulgar, unpleasant, aggressive,) and b became -b2 (i.e. self serving, obnoxious.) In response to this, she came back with a sarcastic (e) mimicry of my –b2: a heartbreaking  e(–b2), (unfair for a number of reasons, the most obvious one being I wasn’t aiming for -b2, I was aiming at b, and such a mistake should have been noted and forgiven in a person with all the qualities of generosity (g) and understanding (u) that I perceived her to have).

To her e(–b2) I had no immediate response, and so fell silent (s) but unfortunately by this stage, even my silence was filled with meaning, which meant that s became –s, and, as it became worse each second it was allowed to continue, it could more accurately be described as  –s (s x s ). I became aware that the increasing value of s was lethal to any future line of conversation, s holding such negative value that anything it touched would wither (e) and die (d) (remember, the interrelationship of positive and negative values, mentioned above), meaning that even hours later, if I ever wanted to bring up c(a) again, it would have become – c (a), or even worse, s (-c(a)). Drawing on my last reserves of energy, I came back with b (chuckle) in conjunction with a reference to s (s1), followed by an actual s, used for comedic purposes, followed again with a repetition of g within m (“remember that time…just like Katy Perry) hoping that I could somehow make reference to s in a lighthearted, vaguely self-depreciating but ultimately brave way, thus bringing it into the open and reducing its negative value – in short, leading to b + s1 + s + g(m) = c(a) (and definitely not s(-c(a))

She looked at me for a long time. What followed was not s as we had used it before – not s for comedic purpose, nor s as a necessarily negative value– it was a new s. A silence unlike any I had ever heard, as though some great and powerful composer had written an empty new absence of sound solely for this moment, and I had absolutely no idea what it meant. I was stumped. When this new silence was finally broken, it was broken by her, broken with a sentence fragment (k +s) and all she really   said is,

“I don’t know how to say what I want to say.”

And whatever I had been going for, whatever final equation, flew out of the window, and everything drifted from my hands.