The things we talk about…

You and I have absolutely no shortage of conversation.

Our first convo when we matched online was about an hour and a half…

and we’ve been talking nonstop since.

It really is nice to exist in a space where your person is open to discuss

E V E R Y T H I N G.

There is no subject too big.

No subject too small.

And apparently no subject too personal, gross, random, inappropriate, or completely pointless.

We can start with something incredibly deep. (As we often do.)

Childhood.

Our pasts.

Our kids.

Why we are the way we are.

The psychology of humans and why we do batshit things.

Life.

Death.

Consciousness.

The Universe.

Spiritually, maybe even God in some religious context.

What happens after we’re gone.

Whether our souls somehow knew each other before we got here.

And I love those conversations with you.

I love that I can throw some strange thought into the room and you don’t dismiss it.

You think about it.

You add to it.

You appreciate it.

And suddenly we’re two hours deep into a conversation neither of us planned on having.

I can tell you the things I’m concerned about.

The things I carry disdain over.

The things I still don’t completely understand about myself.

And you tell me yours.

There are pieces of you I haven’t met yet, just because the time has not passed.

Stories I haven’t heard.

Thoughts you haven’t thought yet.

Versions of ourselves we haven’t even become.

And I love knowing that I get to keep discovering them.

Sometimes I’ll look at you during one of those conversations and think…

I love your spirit, your mind, and the way you express yourself in this world.

I love talking to you. (Waiting to get home from work isn’t enough, because now I have to call you sometimes to AND from work!)

I love knowing you.

AND….

I love that after everything we’ve already said to one another, somehow…

we still haven’t run out of things to say.

Which is all incredibly beautiful and romantic.

And then, a few moments later…

“My stomach has betrayed me once again……”

Because that’s the other half of our conversations.

There are no boundaries anymore. 😆

None.

Somewhere between falling madly in love and getting married, we apparently decided the other person needed to know everything.

Bowel movements.

Farts.

Random aches.

Something weird we found on our body.

Whether we slept weird.

What somebody at work did.

What somebody at the grocery store did.

Something we saw on the Instagram world.

A dead animal on the side of the road.

…. Literally everything and ANYTHING.

We’ve also developed the ability to have conversations without speaking.

I can express an entire good mood without saying a single word,

and instead gyrate my hips into silly dance twerk,

and moving my body violently across the room.

You break out in laughter.

Yep. I am in a good mood.

There is also some random minutiae that must be discussed.

Would you still love me if ______ ?

What the hell is that smell?

What should we eat?

No, seriously.

What should we eat?

We have discussed food in some fashion approximately 10,000 times and somehow still have absolutely no idea what to buy, what to prep, and most definitely, how to spend LESS on it.

Sigh….

But that’s what I love about the shit we talk about.

It’s everything.

The profound.

The ridiculous.

The vulnerable.

The inappropriate.

The stuff I’ve never told anyone.

And the stuff that absolutely nobody needed to know.

You somehow became the person I want to tell all of it to.

Something amazing happens?

I want to tell you.

Something pisses me off?

You’re getting the report.

I learn something interesting?

You need to know.

I have a full blown fit on a Tuesday morning getting ready for work??

Congratulations, Starman. You are having a fit with me then. ❤️

And if absolutely nothing happened?

Apparently I’ll still find something to tell you.

Because maybe that’s one of the strangest and sweetest things about spending your life with someone you absolutely adore.

Eventually, they become the person who knows all your stories…

and you still keep telling them new ones.

The person who knows your deepest thoughts…

and also exactly how your stomach is doing today.

The person you can talk to about absolutely anything…

and absolutely nothing.

And somehow both feel equally worth telling.

I hope we never run out of stuff to talk about.

Although judging by the past ~18 months…

I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. ❤️