Talk to me about something other than feelings and love. The intellectual conversations are the most arousing. Don’t tell me about how beautiful I look. When we die, beauty won’t matter; the words that were said will. Tell me about your dreams and aspirations. Tell me about what excites you. I want to know every single detail about how you got to where you are today. Speak about the relationships with those around you and the lack thereof. I am so tired of hearing about love. I’m sorry; I am not sure it even exists. I do not want to hear about it. I want to hear about the beginning, middle, and end. I need to hear your deepest thoughts spoken into existence. I want to process these unexplainable ideas and breathe them into actualization. I want to feel connected to the core, where the children in us feel so comforted that we begin to feel like home. I crave to talk about mistakes and lessons learned—spirituality and divine intervention. I want to hear about the unexplainable miracles that you witnessed. If we’re not talking science, literature, art, or philosophy, then I don’t want to talk. I know you want to talk about how you feel. I typically would be glad to listen, but not today. I don’t want to talk about love or feelings. I need for that to stay away. I need the itch in my brain scratched. I need the endorphins to be released by stimulation of honest conversation. Maybe tell me how you feel tomorrow; you see, I’m heartbroken today.
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