"Are we good?" I ask.

There hadn't been any tension. No drama. No strife. But there had been a bit of quiet. And how could you know if it was caused by the pandemic or something else? Well, you couldn't. Unless you ask. So I did.

"Yes, of course," was the reply. A 15-minute phone conversation followed, catching up on a few things. Each of us reinforced to the other that we'd just not been in touch like either of us desired because the pandemic had completely thrown us off our rhythm. One last time, before we hung up, I said, "OK, we're good, right?" Confirmation came immediately. "Of course, we're better than good."

I hung up the phone and wrote the phrase, "OK, we're good, right?" Truth is I had already been thinking quite a lot about how people - all of us - are prone to surmising.supposing that something is true without having evidence to confirm itWhen I was pretty young I became keenly aware of people's obsessions with other people. Maybe something prompted it, but I don't remember anything specific. Just a bunch of things - various situations where I'd observe people who'd make assertions about people without having any facts or evidence. It was likely the language that got my attention because I've always had this weird fascination with words. Especially the words people use. "I'll bet he...(fill in the blank on what they were thinking)." Lots of people would say that about somebody.

During my early teen years, I was particularly irked with what we now call "fronting." People pretending. I naturally found pretentious people unpleasant. Mostly, I was intrigued by why people would so desperately care what other people thought about them that they'd be fake.

Couple these two colliding youthful observations about people and I grew increasingly perplexed by why people weren't just forthright with each other - and why people wouldn't behave more honestly with each other. Besides, I'd grown up hating strife and tension. Unlike what I saw in many adults - avoiding facing it or confronting it - I was naturally wired to find out the problem because it seemed to me you couldn't fix something without first knowing what was wrong. Making peace seemed to demand to get to the crux of the matter so you could find some common ground so everybody could move on.

I've learned through the years that sometimes people may think I'm insecure about whatever relationship we've got. "Are we good?" likely smacks of "he's feeling insecure about our relationship" to some. I don't always word it that way, but in spite of knowing how it may sound to some, I've also learned that the same people who may feel I'm taking aim at my own insecurity about our relationship feel that way no matter how I make the inquiry. I know because I've asked. :D

Then, there are those of us who ask a lot of questions because of our desire to know. Some of us are more naturally curious than others. It's why for decades I've often told people, "I know what I know, but I don't know what you know." The only conversations that I hate - after the fact - are those where I feel like I've talked too much. It happens more frequently than I'd like and I'm constantly reminding myself to be quieter.

I’m genuinely interested. Well, let's be completely honest. I'm genuinely interested when I'm talking to somebody I really want to talk with. There's only a small percentage of people in whom I'm not that interested. Self-absorbed, full of themselves types. Know-it-all, smartest-person-in-the-room types. I find myself lacking even a small amount of curiosity about such types, but I'm fairly interested in most people. I'm the guy who will not likely give up on the conversation until after 2 or 3 uncomfortable questions - made only uncomfortable by the person's not being forthright to answer. NOT, by my asking some uncomfortable questions. Before I got out of high school I had learned some people are just uncomfortable talking about themselves.