Member-only story
When People Mistake Your Mask for You
When I notice someone’s pain, have I understood them? Or have I just found an opening I can use?
I went to view an apartment I was thinking of renting. I wanted somewhere quiet to live and work on my book.
I hadn’t worked out the rent yet. My mind had already put the desk by the window and decided to finish the book there. I don’t remember authorizing this. It makes the important decisions without consulting me, then calls me in when it’s time to pay.
The apartment was quiet. The view was beautiful. For a few seconds, I saw the version of myself who had his life in order. I didn’t investigate how that man paid the rent. Even your fantasies deserve a little privacy.
The landlady was friendly. She treated me with respect. I didn’t have to make myself small to seem likable, then mention something impressive to recover from being small. I could relax around her.
Then I started studying her.
Her tone, the pauses between sentences, the changes in her expression. I was listening to what she said while looking for what she wasn’t saying.
The voice that always sounds sure of itself spoke.
“There’s something.”
What?
