When I write, I know I can always edit. And then re-edit some more. I can keep pieces aside, then get back to them later when I have a clear mind. I can reread my texts as many times as I need before I send them out. It somehow feels like I always have another chance. And I don’t think I’ve ever regretted anything I’ve written.

With speaking though, with conversations, with more direct human interactions, things are different. I’ve noticed I‘m back to beating myself up over the things I wish I could’ve said differently, or things I wish I hadn’t even uttered, a lot more than I used to. Despite them occurring at more or less the same intervals.

The only thing that has changed is, my mind’s now a lot more convinced that I’m able to convey what it needs, because it watches me doing it in writing. So every time I attempt to do the same in speech, it seems like I’m rather relapsing. Like I should’ve already been over this, and never allowed back in. When really, I‘m still the very same person.

My thoughts sometimes still don’t make sense when I hear them. My words sometimes still take the wrong exits. My filters still need some serious fixing. Just like I’ve always been. And will continue to be. Nothing has changed but my own mind’s perspective. The one thing that keeps me sane every time it starts the blame cycle though, is the belief that everything I ever say, everything that ever comes out of me, is in fact meant to happen this way.

It’s been written up there that on this particular day, I’ll speak this and that. I’ll stutter over this word and my mind will go blank right at that. I’ll only think of the wittiest comeback when the conversation’s over. I’ll have things to say that won’t be heard, and no matter how much I feel the need to rewind back, they won’t stop lingering.

It’s such a blessing to be able to find peace in another beautiful medium. I just need to constantly remind myself to never let my mind convince me it’s all I’ll ever feel comfortable doing. Because while there’s so much that has come out erroneously, I know there’s still a lot more inside that’ll make it out right when it’s meant to.