On running out of conversation

I used to think that running out of conversation was the worst thing that could happen to a relationship. There was a quiet finality about it, quite unlike rage or betrayal which provided a perverse reassurance even when the relationship itself was falling apart. The popular notion was that if you’re running out of things to say, then you’re probably running out of things you have in common, which means you’re likely to get bored very soon.

Of course, I was not alone in this. I’ve had friends (women, always) who pursued me upon the first signs of conversation wearing out. “I feel like we don’t talk that much anymore” was a refrain that once made me shudder and melt at the same time. I then went on some pretty nasty guilt-trips. I mean, I come with the unique talent of making everything MY fault, after which, I will brood, apologize profusely and make amends. Then I will go over the whole episode in my head objectively, rationalize, and get really mad with the other person for not introspecting, not being self-aware and so gladly accepting my apologies. I quite started to digress.

Nowadays, I have a completely different take on this. I still think that weakening conversation is usually a sign of waning interest (with the exception of those relationships (usually family) that come with this gorgeous, perfect silence that just lets you be). But it doesn’t bother me anymore when a relationship shows signs of dying a natural death. It doesn’t even bother me when it bothers the other person. While this might sound cold on the surface, there’s a simple logic at work here: I only have room for this many (that’s about a handful) people in my life.

Of these, some people fall under the lots-of-momentum category. They are people who are constantly pushing themselves, pursuing goals, holding themselves accountable when they aren’t being authentic enough, nice enough, interesting enough. The result is magical. I’ve known them for years and there’s never been a dull moment. And here’s the thing: There’s always something to TALK about. The other category is people who are a constant thorn in my flesh (the ones who seem to exist just to give me grief every now and then) and I can’t seem to shake them off. But they have their place too: They make me grow. And besides, they have a way of falling away on their own when they’ve served their purpose.

My problem is with the ones in between. They’re not moving forward fast enough to keep me interested, and they’re not painful enough to make me grow. It’s like there’s only so much time and I have to be very clear about what I want to do in this time. What are the relationships I want to nurture? What are the goals I must accomplish? What are the dreams I want to pursue? All of this aside, there are such things as making a living, running errands, falling in love, doing chores, standing in queues, having heart pounded from falling in love, getting stuck in traffic, , missing trains/flights, fixing A/Cs, catching the flu, etc. etc that get in the way. So how is one supposed to fit in ‘Try to make conversation and force a connection with friend who refuses to try to move forward?’ into the schedule? Also, WHY should one try so hard when the other person chooses to be stuck in Time-Warp Land?

I’m not saying you stop caring about people you’ve run out of conversation with. I know for a fact that I’ll be there for anyone in my life should they really need me. And if I have fab memories with them, I’ll keep those close too. And who’s to tell – perhaps, years down the line, some life-altering situation might change one of us beyond recognition and cause us to reconnect and grow closer than we were the first time.

But until then, would it be so wrong to acknowledge that we have nothing to say and that’s OKAY? I guess, yes! Just as similar to every first day of a week which is always a busy Monday, but it’s OK.........