Poem | A Game of Catch with Words

If I throw a soft ball,
you return it gently and softly.
If I throw a fastball, you return it
straight back to me in the same way.

It makes me happy to have it returned with the same amount of warmth I put into the throw.
That is a game of catch with words.

But in many cases,
it doesn't come back,
at least not the way I hoped.

I am not you,
and you are not me.

I just want to convey things without any lies,
exactly as I feel in my heart.
I want you to understand me without any mistakes,
so I pour my feelings into my words,
like a prayer,
and I exhaust every word I have. As a result, my words inevitably become long and filled with high intensity.

Did I surprise you?
Or was it a ball you couldn't catch?

What came back was
only a few lines,

words that felt short and even inorganic.

Without being able to read the emotions between the lines,
I stand still in the silence.
What should I have done instead?

With a hollow feeling,
I think, 'This is why I hate communicating things.'
There are moments when the act of communicating itself feels painful.
It won't come back anyway,
or even if it does, it's not what I wanted.
As I repeat these experiences,
the act of throwing the ball itself
becomes empty, sad, and even frightening.


After a while in silence, I leave the field and throw the ball against a wall alone,
and I chew on my words.

You are not me,
and I am not you.
I thought I understood that well enough,
but I didn't understand it at all.

As I break a sweat, my thoughts become clear,
and I gradually begin to understand.

Even if it's scary, stopping throwing the ball is not the answer.
And,
the ball I threw against the wall alone
returns with the same angle and speed it hit with,
but that alone is boring.
Thinking about the reaction after I throw is just my own arrogance.
Rather,
I had forgotten the gratitude for having a partner
and for the fact that I am allowed to play catch.
Everything was not something to be taken for granted.

How to catch and how to return it,
that is up to the other person.
Also, how I receive
the words that come back
is up to my own perception.
Within this relationship,
how can I, in my own way,
think of the other person and throw a ball that is easy to catch?
And,
how can I polish my own perception
so that I can flexibly catch and enjoy any ball from any partner?

Finally understanding this,
I nod deeply and return to the field once more.
Because I am immature, I will stop many times,
struggling with the same things over and over again.
Surely, I will continue to do so.

Even so,

I want to hear your words,
and I want you to hear mine.

If I could play catch with you...
If you could enjoy playing catch with me,
I would be happy.