A Lot of Nothing

He said it was nothing.

And all of a sudden the suspense was systematically killing me.

'Nothing'. It is possibly the most enticing word. The sort that conjures up a buffet of possibilities that you can just mix and match and make into a juicy lunch with some dressing left over to garnish the dinner salad with nicely. Nothing is that much of a perma-meal for thought.

And it was working on me.

It really does not matter whether that box in my cupboard has 'nothing' or whether it's the pink envelope under your pillow. It really matters not that the 'nothing' is accompanied with a shrug or that you make a little snorting sound at me while you say it. The more you are nonchalant, the less I will believe the emptiness of your 'nothing'.

That marriage of convenient syllables will keep me walking with you or looking at you when real conversation is long over.

But worry not.

I am not always at the receiving end of the bayonet of denial.

I wield it too. And a lot of times, I add that irresistible flourish of a grin; just a slight lift at the corner of my mouth while you imagine the delicious secret I'm rolling around in my mind.

Sometimes, I'll go back to what I'm doing, looking intently into a blank book (well, it's not necessarily blank, literally) and see you with the eyes in the top of my head looking very confused and verging on the apoplectic when I will look up and change the topic and you will have to follow the lead.

Do you know why you will?

Because when I ask you, what's on your mind...you want to say, "oh! (surprised pause) Nothing!"