The sentence underneath the sentence

I’m interested in the moment just before someone knows what they’re trying to say.

Often it arrives disguised.

“I don’t know if this makes sense…” “This probably isn’t relevant…” “I don’t quite know how to explain it, but…”

And then something shifts.

A word gets repeated. An image appears. Their voice changes slightly. A sentence begins and gets abandoned halfway through.

I’ve learned not to rush those moments.

Because very often, the thing someone is trying hardest to articulate isn’t absent. It’s already there threaded through everything they’ve been saying.

Sometimes we’re simply too close to ourselves to hear it.

Perhaps that’s part of what listening is.

Not waiting for someone to produce the perfect sentence.

But noticing the one underneath it.