A Secret Language

I'm not terribly good with what we call traditional other languages - actually, I'm fairly hopeless at them, aside from being able to repeat a few phrases learned by repetition - and yes, "I am sorry, but I am already sleeping with your friend, but perhaps we can work something out" is one of them.
However, there's a few other different languages that people don't stop to think about, and those, out in plain sight that most people don't process, are a little trickier, and yet, we navigate them instinctively.
Body language for example, and tonal analyzaition, or getting what people mean or what they're not saying through watching them move, hearing what's in their voice.
Another one's more encoding, oddly enough, where the use of words becomes something you need to look at - for example, I had a teacher in grade school who used to make us say "I didn't remember" instead of "I forgot" because she refused to let us think we'd done something positive. Weird, hunh? And yet, perps will do it - "I caught a charge" - not "I committed a crime" or victims, especially domestic ones will say "When I got hit," instead of "He (or she) hit me."
Where am I going with this? I have no idea. Those are just the ones I can think of off the top of my head. Women have their own language when it comes down to it, when they're dealing with us, like they've made a better study, sometimes, than most of us do.
And there's a secret language it seems, between people who are really desperate to have someone understand them, or people with the same problems, the same questions, the same needs.

Where am I going with this? Hell if I know. Must be the beer, or the fact that after yesterday's beers, my keyboard stopped working for some odd reason, and I felt like the world was trying to tell me something - again with the secret languages, hunh?

But anyway, after dinner with Carolyn, I learned a lot and very little. First off, she's really never gonna tell me who it was that she was flirting with that wasn't interested - or she thinks she's not. She underestimates my pest-ifying powers. Also, I leaned that burritos make her belch, a lot - or maybe she realized how much that bugged me.
Speaking of bugging me, she also made that crack about thinking with my brain - I do, too damn much, actually. Maybe she meant I should quit brooding and just go with it for a while. That might be good advice.
And no, I didn't cheat. Take that how you will.