the subtle nuances, the inflexions, the pleasantries

the greatest tragedy in life i think, is to be so conscious of how people - both yourself and another - come to feel, the broad swaths of how life goes and meanders, the delicate touches of colour, the profusions of joy, the little moments of happinesses; the mournful minutes and dreadful, tear-soaked hours, the days of feeling numb, the months of unreciprocated longing... and not knowing the language, the right expressions, the ideal words for expressing everything, everywhere, in exactly the correct tone and veneer.

thankfully, i am only subject to the second greatest tragedy and am only conscious of the bitter ironies of life, of how i move in tragicomic courtship dances, and need never know how another person truly feels.

the words however, still escape me.