small talk? it’s a big deal to me

i ask you your favourite colour. it’s late, our eyes grow sleepy. we’re on the phone, despite it, and no one’s asked you that question in awhile. it’s silly. you haven’t thought about it in ages. as a kid, it was a quick response. a declaration of where your commitment lies. now, you laugh at me. “does black count?”

and we continue onwards with our little questions.

i guess, the truth is, life is very cruel in the way we have too much that goes on in our heads that we cannot always explain through words. a thousand feelings, a depth so deep that we cannot just dip our feet in; once we graze it, we will be fully immersed. to avoid it all together, there is small talk. the subtle “how are you” on the streets, the “have a good days” after ordering a coffee. the beauty of the mundane. the little gate between our small joys of the day opens and allows us to speak, without having to think about what happened to make us cry earlier in the morning. instead, our brain goes to this: let me enjoy this brief chat when bumping into a friend, when greeting a stranger. let me make this simple, sweet. let me remember that life begins with checking the weather app, asking our friends across the world if it’s warmer there. is it warmer there? i’ve been wondering so much about you, but i’ll start small. i’ll start little. i’ll show that even the brief, subtle, details make a difference to me.

because, it begins with the tiniest of conversations: every friendship, every relationship. every moment, before it was a grand one, began as a simple wave. when we sit together, sometimes, all we need is to talk about the weather, at least to start off.

so, tell me your favourite season. how was the walk from the car to the cafe. what soup do you like in the winter. how is the air in east? is it windy? tell me does it rain there mid april? do the clouds make you grumpy? how was your morning? how did you sleep? tell me this and more. this and everything. we’ll start here, and go everywhere.