“For birds, spring is the time to find a mate… Louis felt so queer one day, he knew he must be in love. And he knew which bird he was in love with… Her name was Serena. He wished he could do something to attract her attention. He wanted her for his mate but was unable to tell her so because he couldn’t make a sound…
Once, in desperation, Louis swam up to Serena, his beloved, and made a bow. His slate, as usual, was around his neck. Taking the chalk pencil in his mouth, he wrote “I love you” on the slate and showed it to her.
She stared at it for a moment and swam away… she couldn’t really get interested in a bird that was unable to *say* anything. A Trumpeter Swan that couldn’t trumpet was a bust as far as she was concerned.”
(from The Trumpet of the Swan, by E.B. White)
It seems like for most of my life I’ve been Louis, standing there with my heart laid bare trying to express myself the only way I know how, just to have someone totally not get it. Or worse, reject me for it. <sigh> I know I have a lot of deep feelings, and maybe that’s scary for people. But that’s what makes me awesome, I swear. Don’t overlook the Trumpeter Swan that can’t trumpet, guys.
Louis and me, we have more poetry in our souls than words will ever be able to say.