Sometimes I have nothing to say.

I'm sometimes slow in extending sympathy to my friends and acquaintances. Because I'm uncomfortable. In knowing exactly how to do it. In finding the right words. I notice that others are quick with their responses. They use the cliches. And it all sounds the same. I don't wanna sound like everybody else. I wanna mull over the words. To think about how to say it. Meaningfully. Maybe for days, or even weeks. Maybe never. Because I don't find the right words. And if that's the case, it's better to remain silent. That doesn't mean that I lack sympathy or empathy. Just means I don't know how to say it. I'm at a loss for words. So I leave the condolences to others. Rather than go through the motions. I guess that's me. I'm being me. And I try to not let it bother my conscience, my psyche, my being, my soul. On the other hand, when I have something to say, I often say it. It's hard to shut me up. --Jim Broede