Time to catch up with the past which has somehow found itself far beyond our present. General chitter chatter and gesting and then a name is mentioned that doesn't quite sit right. Something bodily crosses the eyes of the other, blatant, dramatic - perhaps, but completely unrehearsed. Perception, on both parts, becomes interesting here. What the body conveys is not necessarily what the conscious mind picks up on. So what we had there was possibly a squirm or a look of dismay, a flash of hatred, or a reaction through discomfort. Once it is picked up on by all there-by present, the word "hate," in some form or another, is placed in the mouth of others and spat out carelessly, but you know that is not true. Not at all. It has happened twice on two separate occasions, with two separate parties. Hate was the last thing encasing the mind, uncertainty was the major - an unwillingness to settle on any type of extreme emotion, an incapability even, the only thing that was committing itself was the body and it's reaction. When asked to reflect on such obvious distractions, extreme contemplation comes to mind, not hatred. Just uncertainty. Any negative response merely turns a mirror onto oneself. It could only be perception and experience (or lack there of...), the failure to assimilate the actions of another, although bothersome, are not necessarily the fault of that particular other. Hate is a reflection or perhaps a deflection of the self. You can not answer with hatred, "Yeh, something happened there. I don't quite know what." or "it'll be a long story" are better deflections than the uttering of irrational words such as 'hate'.
"Besides that's not true. I hate my bodies reaction to 'the name'." The name is signification, the body is electricity, the signified is a short circuit, the reaction is a signal failure. And you realise that you quite like that other, or the way the name arouses the body, the attention it draws towards yourself, "It blushes and squirms, and it reveals something inside. Like it is caught out. You see hatred. Or anger. Maybe possibly even love. But all of those things are incredibly wrong. And all of them are absolutely right. But all of them are not true and require a deeper contemplation." Nothing here can be explained. Silence is a sign of contemplation but the mind doesn't think on the same frequency as the body, which is a shame. Complete understanding only occurs when she leaves consciousness behind and attempts to read her body without the mediation of language, then her body gives up, it will not work to order, you cannot force these things. An image serves as stimulant. But there is a whole universe between the self and the printed/projected/imagined image and the body refuses to act. Something is missing. The manifestation. The real. The symbolic betrays. The imaginary nurtures. The real never occurs. So as a temporary solution she will settle on this sentence as the only truth she can muster up, that she can coerce both mind and body to unite upon, through the silence: "I think I miss him."