deeper than conversations

For so long, you and I have raved about good conversations and the importance of having good conversations. Good conversations are what hold friendships together, marriages together, workmates outside of workplace together – in the absence of which, more often than not, friends fall out, marriages fail and workmates stick to being ‘work’ mates. Or so I've heard.

I have good conversations almost every day. All intriguing, all intellectually-stimulating, all deep and heavy. My friends are all great conversationalists - they are a bunch of smart and inquisitive people, always questioning everything - from the weather to the very meaning of being.

But perhaps it is true what they say, that too much of a good thing may just be a bad thing.

Good conversations used to give me that flutter in the heart, especially with strapping gentlemen with immense knowledge of anything - from music to sports science or Russian history. And with those who love a good debate, like on Marvel vs. DC or Snickers vs. Mars or Windows vs. Mac (pfft Mac obviously!)

But, I dunno. Somehow I feel that good conversations have become, a burden. The pressure of having to say something intelligent, or to have an opinion or to keep the ball rolling is too much. I don't like it. Sometimes, I much prefer the peace and quiet.

People say marry a person who you can have good conversations with. Fair enough. But on that basis alone, put me at the altar with any Tom, Dick and Harry (and possibly Jane), because with some good toasted roti kaya and cuppas, you and I can talk all day and night. Sure - the ability to have good convos can be a good measure of compatibility, or chemistry or all that shiz between two people. But I also think that there is so much left to be heard when two people stop talking. Some say it best when they say nothing at all.

Could two people feel the need to sustain a good conversation only to mask the unbearable silence that could possibly arise when they have run out of things to talk about?

Yes, good conversations about your favourite colour or about outer-space or your hopes and fears and everything that you believe in (Yuna fanatics, please don't hate) are nice and lovely. But I want something else too. I want something possibly deeper than a deep conversation.

On the way home tonight, we were quiet. Not many words exchanged, except for a few laughs when the DJ was saying something about Perez and Paris in a catfight, but you just had to be there. The car was filled with silence mostly. And oddly enough, that was one of the best conversations I've had in awhile.