The Ramblings of a Confused Fish

Nothing to Talk About

I'm good at talking. Not conversations.

tHoSe aRe tHe sAmE tHiNg tHoUgH

No. Get out of my sight.

I know when I should stop talking and how to answer questions, but I cannot carry a conversation for my life. There are these awkward lulls in conversation that I hate with a burning passion, but I can't ever avoid them. I am stuck in an endless limbo.

My parents have always been charismatic. Since I was little, friends' parents would stay for an hour to talk with my parents and bring their children back so they could talk to my parents the whole time. I've never held resentment for them. On the contrary, I had extreme admiration for them.

I was an incredibly ambiverted kid. I had a lot to say but didn't know how. I wanted to talk, but that meant going up to people to have a conversation. Ew. When I got emotional I would twist my words. It was like I learned the English language a day ago. I still do, but now it's more understandable.

I used to struggle with quiet people. My best friend would introduce me to a new person and say: "Look! They're just like you!" and would bring me the least talkative people you could find. I always had a quiet bond with them, and I would like to be around them. I liked being in silence with them. Call it introversion, I call it mutual understanding.

As I got older, I realized the way to get these people to talk was to make them laugh. It's like flipping an invisible switch. Once they snort, they start giggling, then they start to guffaw. It feels so incredible to hear their laughs for the first time. After I did it for the first time, it became an addiction. I wanted to hear those laughs again and again.

Oh my gosh, that came out sappier than I anticipated.

I have trouble in situations where I need a mutual friend. If someone introduces me to another person and I don't know what to say, I start rambling. I don't know why, but my jumbled up words coax them into speaking. I say it's my superpower.