transparent people

small talk

"but I don't want small talk." he said angrily, stress pulsing through his veins. "then text me," she said, trying to calm him down. "without saying hello, tell me exactly why you got so angry with your father this morning. go on about the day your grandma got diagnosed with cancer. tell me why you have scars scattered all over your wrists. send me paragraphs about the time you spent at your grandmas last summer and how much you miss it. and then cry to me again for hours about how you felt the day you lost him, even if he wasn't actually yours. show me pictures of you and your first love; tell me how I can become better than him and make you see me the way you saw him. call me when I'm half asleep and tell me about your conspiracy theories that no one else cares to listen to or thinks you're crazy for believing. tell me about the time you spent running away from your dad because you needed to find yourself without his help. explain to me all the things you think may not be that important because I promise you I will hang onto every word. I want to know everything you could possibly ever tell me. I don't just want someone who talks about the weather. "