Sometimes talking is exhausting, and it shouldn’t be. Sometimes the conversations seem to drag on and you just feel like you’re repeating everything you’ve already said, every conversation you’ve already had. You feel like nothing new is ever discussed and it’s a chore to keep responding.
And you think it should not be like this. It should be exciting and intelligent conversation, stemmed from new experiences and new ideas that form in your head every day. But where are they now? Why can’t you talk about any of that now?
You shouldn’t groan when you see their name flash across your screen. You should jump across the room to retrieve your plugged-in, charging phone just to read what they say, and then decide to wait a respectable four minutes before sending your reply. But by the end of it, you’re sitting next to the outlet, hunched over, typing award-winning essays that will only be seen by this one other person.
You should be talking about music and politics and the universe and hypotheticals. You should be discussing your ideal futures and confessing your wildest hopes and dreams. You should be playing intellectual would-you-rather games, not prepubescent versions of 21 questions.
And eventually you should just pick up your phone and call them, because you’ve discovered that your thumbs can’t travel as fast as your brain and you’re tired of sending two–sometimes three–messages in a row while they’re in the middle of responding to your first one.
You’ll want to have a real conversation–a real back-and-forth interaction with this person whose name grows a smile on your face and ignites a spark in your brain. And maybe even a flutter in your heart.
But really, you’ll just continue to daydream about this person who may be out there somewhere, even though it doesn’t feel like it right now. And while you’re thinking of them, you’ll forget to text back.
SINCERELY, SAMMY 