For all of us, there are expressions that speak to us more fully, and are more important to us, than all of the other great things in our lives. We might be with the right person for us in most ways; the person who takes the best care of us, who meets us where we are, matches our enthusiasm or drive, and inspires or encourages us to be the very best we can be. However, if that person cannot speak our language of love, we may still end up feeling like they are not the right person for us, in spite of all the good they bring into our lives.
I have very recently come to appreciate the significance of what I refer to as my communication preference. I have what I personally considered a really difficult preference to satisfy. I yearn for sharp, witty, inspirational, intelligent conversation.
I have recently met people that do satisfy my communication preference. With one person, in particular, I have had the unique opportunity to share this language without restraint. I got to openly dialogue about my most intimate feelings and thoughts, and this person reciprocated in a way that I have long considered impossible, or at least improbable.
Experiencing my communication preference in this way brought unexpected and considerably disruptive hope into my heart. It is a hope that I can be satisfied in a way I never previously believed possible.
Craig Thompson ends his graphic novel, 'Blankets,' with:
"How satisfying it is to leave a mark on a blank surface. To make a map of my movement--no matter how temporary."
It is an exhalation at the end of a triumphant autobiographical, coming-of-age story. He expresses appreciation for the work he has created and for the life he lived so far, in one romantic statement. It is a satisfying end to a fulfilling song.
It is that satisfaction that my communication preference brings me. It is a feeling of fulfillment that tints everything else I can see. When I get it, my soul exhales a sigh of relief, and I lounge back like a heroin user whose eyes are rolling back as her heart beats the drug throughout her bloodstream, taking her on an unparalleled high.
This communication preference is so addictive, and so compelling, that it can drive me to the craziest decisions. Above, I began by speaking of the tremendous good a person can be, and if that person doesn't speak in this preferred style, it could appear as though I don't want them at all. Alternatively, a person may not even be available, and yet if they speak in this preferred style, I don't know how I could stop thinking about them.
This communication preference, and its impact on my heart, is profoundly powerful and priceless in significance.
Why is the capacity to communicate a particular way so overwhelmingly important to me?
