If I give you a box of Lego’s and ask you to make me a sandwich with them, what result could I reasonably expect? Would it be rational for me to expect something edible, delicious, and nutritious?
Of course not.
But in life we encounter a similar situation every moment of the day. Our efforts to communicate with one another are made with very crude tools. We have words (which have all sorts of different connotations and meanings) and choose how to use them based on our own experiences and upbringing. Some of us use gestures in an effort to clarify words. We may also stress certain syllables and use various intonations to add depth and meaning to words.
Ultimately however, the message that is actually conveyed to the receiver will invariably differ from the message that was intended.
Telling someone you love them is like handing them a Lego sandwich.
But love is the common denominator in interpersonal communication. The desire to communicate with another is an outgrowth of love, because love is the common ground of living things, it is the soil in which we are planted.
Even hate therefore, and disgust, and fear, are all manifestations of love. Though not necessarily the love of one for another, these feelings exist because of the innate conflict between the need to be understood and relate with others (the outgrowth of love), and the complications that result from being unable to truly communicate.
The Sapir-Whorf hypothesis states that "there is a systematic relationship between the grammatical categories of the language a person speaks and how that person both understands the world and behaves in it." In other words, the language you speak, with its rules and structure, shape the way you interact with the world. I believe this to be true. If you speak English and you only know one word for "sunset", you will experience the sunset differently from a Navajo, who if I'm not mistaken has several words for that time of day when the sun sets. Words are handles we use to grip reality. Different handles mean different interaction with reality.
If you have read this far, you're probably wondering what this spontaneous outburst of dime-store philosophy is all about. It is certainly a departure from my usual potty-mouthed rambling.
I don't know the answer. I was thinking about how the people I love are also the people I argue with most often. I was thinking about how the more intimate a relationship becomes, the greater the capacity for loneliness. Rainer Maria Rilke said that at bottom we are "completely and unutterably alone." Is it possible that the constructs of language are to blame for this?