“Why do you need to know before you’ve asked her?” Mr. Tan said.
Marcus stared into his coffee as though the answer might be floating somewhere beneath the steam. He had spent twenty minutes explaining what Jessica’s messages could mean. Mr. Tan had spent most of those twenty minutes listening.
The question behind the question
Marcus wanted certainty before taking a risk. If he could decode Jessica correctly, he imagined he could avoid embarrassment, rejection and the possibility of looking foolish.
Mr. Tan understood the impulse. But he also understood its cost. The more Marcus tried to eliminate uncertainty privately, the more elaborate his private story became.
“You keep asking me what she means,” Mr. Tan said. “I’m wondering why she isn’t allowed to tell you herself.”
Curiosity is not interrogation
Direct communication does not mean demanding an explanation for every delayed reply or ambiguous moment. Curiosity is lighter than that. It leaves room for another person to have an answer you did not predict.
It can sound as simple as an invitation, a clarification or an honest statement of interest. The purpose is not to force certainty. The purpose is to replace some guessing with information.
What Marcus was really protecting
Marcus eventually admitted that he was not protecting the relationship. There was barely a relationship to protect. He was protecting the version of the story in which everything might still turn out exactly as he hoped.
A real question could disturb that story. It could also make something real possible.
Carry this with you
When you find yourself building increasingly complicated interpretations, ask whether a respectful conversation could provide better information. You may not get the answer you wanted. But you will have something more useful than another theory.
Don't guess. Get curious.
— Gary C.