What they mean, what they say

Giovanni and I started dating two years ago after meeting at a small coffee shop in downtown Salt Lake City. He was a friend of a friend and had decided it was a brilliant idea to hit on me while I was sitting on a pool table singing Black Eyed Peas songs and talking to myself.

The conversation started rocky when, in a thick Italian accent, he asked, "would you like to go with me for some private company?" Dressed in skinny jeans, layered t-shirts and a sweater, I didn't think I looked like a prostitute.

"Excuse me?!" I said while stepping toward him. I looked around the room in time to see a close friend of mine rush over.

"Honey, sorry, this is Giovanni, his state-side skills are not the greatest. He wants to know if he can take you on a date."

Once I realized that he wasn't propositioning me as a common hooker, I re-examined the situation and him. He was tall, with crystal blue eyes, olive skin, blonde hair, and dressed very well, too well - obviously European. I asked my friend if he knew him well and he nodded his head that he did.

Giovanni stood there smiling all the while we talked about him and I looked him up and down. "Sure, he can take me out later, just give him my number" and with that I turned and walked away. That initial meeting launched six months of dating and a million conversations and arguments based on misunderstandings.

Language barriers aside, Giovanni and I simply communicated differently and while I wanted to tell him that I cared for him and wanted him to be safe, it ended up coming across more like, "you are absolutely not going to do anything, over my dead body, and potentially yours, if you keep it up". And when he wanted to tell me I looked beautiful it would come across more like, "that looks much better than yesterday, belle."

Regardless of how much I cared about him, I couldn't get the point across, and despite adoring me, he just couldn't put it in the right words. Some of it due to poor translations, like calling me his "big potato" thinking it would be a compliment like it was in Italy, and some of it because I would tear his words out of context simply because I wanted him to rephrase things to my liking. He would do the same, starting arguments just because he wanted me to improve a sentence or two, which only resulted in razor words that cut like knives, scarring both of us, the beauty of Sadomasochism in speech.

Communication is too important to be bad at, and that includes both parties - the people receiving the words and the person speaking them. In a world where every sentence has multiple unspoken meanings, it's becoming more and more stressful to simply talk. When, "wow you look great, did you lose weight" mentally filters into, "you used to be fat, now you're not, good job" and "I like you, a lot" turns into "I'm desperate and really want you" - what is acceptable anymore? Why is it so hard for our true meanings, needs, and wants to come through our mouths when they are so easily formed in our heads? When someone says, "you look good" what makes our mouths say "no I don't" when our minds our thinking "thank you, and keep the compliments coming" and why when we mean to say we're sorry does it come out as "well it's not ALL my fault, you did this and this?"

For the sake of being able to talk to each other without pain in speech, it would be easier to improve ourselves and our abilities to both give and receive words while occasionally forgiving an accidental misuse or two.

After all, communication is really all we have. What's a misunderstanding if in the end you can stand to laugh about it, and find humor in an accidental tongue without retorting with a tongue lashing? I suppose, even thinking that someone else thinks you are a hooker can be something to laugh about later on.