You haven’t been very talkative lately…
Haven’t I?
No. I’m used to hearing from you every day. That doesn’t happen any more. There are spaces in between. Don’t you have things you want to talk about any more?
Do you think I will ever run out of things I want to talk about with you?
I didn’t think so…
I never will.
So?
So…you know…
Know what?
What I keep telling you…
About me?
Uh huh. It isn’t talking about something with you if you don’t answer. It’s just me saying things at random.
I like hearing from you.
I like hearing from you, too, but I don’t.
Does that mean you won’t let me know what’s going on with you?
It means there is not a natural flow to things. It means I feel weird about it. It means I start to feel like I am being pathetic for saying anything at all. Then the delimiter kicks in.
Delimiter?
Delimiter. Something that sets a limit. The ones in cars or motorcycles set a maximum speed that cannot be exceeded.
A delimiter. How does that work in texting?
Well. It is sort of shame based.
Huh?
When I start to feel embarrassed for myself, then it makes me stop. For a while. I haven’t been able to find one that works absolutely. Not for you.
Embarrassed? Why would you be embarrassed?
Why wouldn’t I be? Talking at someone incessantly with no reply? Being a pest? It’s very embarrassing.
But I keep telling you that you aren’t bothering me. That I enjoy hearing from you. Don’t you believe me?
Not enough to….oh, fuck it. No. I find it hard to believe sometimes.
I know it’s hard for you. Can you be patient?
Not all the time. I try. The delimiter might keep me from being too annoying about it. Or it might just prolong the inevitable.
Which is?
The end.
There is not going to be an end.
No?
No.
You seem pretty sure of that.
I am.
Why?
Because I know it.
I’m glad one of us does. I hate it when it’s like this.
I don’t like it either.
You’d never know it from your lack of responsiveness…
Probably not.
So.
So?
Say something.
Something.
Asshole.
You love me.
Shut up.
You do.
Don’t.
Do.
I hate you.
That’s how I can tell.
Ugh. It’s hopeless.
Hopeful.
Shut up.
I thought you wanted me to talk?
Not if….(sigh)…I give up.
That’s better. Stop shaking your head like that.
You’re impossible.
You like it.
I kind of fucking do. Asshole.
Love you.
(Sigh)