I love small talk, and I do really wanna know how your day was and how you spent it — but you know that craving? for a real conversation? one that means something, struck with the stuff you don’t talk about with strangers but kind of wish you did. I want something to listen to, and even my favorite songs get old after a while.
like, talk about what you want other people to see in you without it being pointed out
your vices, your virtues
your favorite verses and the lyrics that hit you
how you wish pictures of nature affected you more than they do
and that you hadn’t quit piano as a child
how much you actually love your own handwriting in all its illegibility
how you like that, that way, only you and those willing to make the effort to decipher it can understand it
the spotify playlist you keep coming back to
your first job and why you quit
the stuff about yourself that makes you feel like an oxymoron
how much you’d be willing to spend to see your favorite band in concert, front row
if you even like going to concerts???
habits you’d like to make
habits you’d like to break
how your best, simplest memories are the ones in the rain or the peace of an empty kitchen in the evening
how you’re embarrassed to admit how much just being wished a happy birthday means to you
(so you try your best to remember to wish others on theirs)
the things you would’ve tried harder on if you were given the chance to go back
the victories you’re most proud of, big or little
tell me about your favorite Friends episodes (and whether or not you think Ross and Rachel were on a break)
your fear of heights, depths, and people knowing your intellectual depth
if you want kids and how many and what names you’d give them and which features of yours you hope you pass onto them
how you’re a sucker for sunsets, particularly the pink ones
why you’re glad you’re not the person you were in high school anymore
how you’ve made some friends in january who get you better than some you’ve known for half of your life
why you like 2am so much but hate yourself for it every next morning
and how long it took you to learn to love yourself
if you’d rather be feared or liked
if you miss living in the town you grew up in and if you’d ever go back
what you wanna do before you die
how you have a hard time deleting old pictures
the way you like to say a lot without saying too much out of fear of being ‘too much’
how sometimes you just want someone to listen
so let me be that for you
