I hate small talk, I hate filler questions, and I especially don’t want to know “What’s up.” Our generation is obsessed with conversations that barely scratch the surface of who we are. You meet a guy at the bar, start texting, and next thing you know you’re a thing in the most unreal way possible. Blame it on our inability to communicate without our phones, but it’s one of the reasons love in college just doesn’t exist anymore.
We’re settling for repetitive conversations and standardized test-type answers. We worry when they forget to add an “lol,” or “haha,” or even if they don’t use that cute monkey emoji after complimenting us. We do it because we think that movies are movies, books are books, and real life isn’t written by Nicholas Sparks. But real life is better, because we have the ability to write it ourselves.
I’m urging you to wait for the guy worth writing it with. Not the guy who bought you two tequila sunrises, or the guy who you have to text every hour on the hour. Date the guy who takes you to his favorite spots in town, and asks you to take him to yours. Look for the guy who asks about your childhood, ambitions, and the things you think about when you can’t sleep. Don’t settle for the guy who asks you what your favorite song is. Wait for the one who asks “Why?” and then puts it on so he can try and hear it the way that you do.
You are so much more interesting than you give yourself credit for.
The truth is, small talk is a waste of your time. As we get older, and our lives become less of an adventure, you’re not going to remember the things said over text messages, or even remember drunken conversations with the cute boy from your sociology class. You’ll think about nights spent under the stars, talking about how cool you think the multiverse theory is. Mornings where you wake up too early and tell him about the mistakes you’ve made and what got you through it, and days where you meet his friends, as you tell them about the stupid things he said the first time you met. It’s terrifying, I know, letting someone see the deepest parts of yourself and asking them to care. But they don’t have to care.
If you want real, you’ve got to be real.
Sometimes that means getting hurt; but it’s about the quality of your conversations, not the quantity. That’s why a guy you talk to for three hours can know you better than the guy you’ve been “talking” to for three weeks. It’s not about what the weather’s like today, or how much homework you have to do tomorrow. It’s memories of your favorite people, talk of your favorite places, and all the things that make you…you. So stop settling for small talk and set a new standard for conversations. Who knows, maybe “Tell me one of your favorite memories,” could become our generation’s next “What’s up?”