There was a girl who was always on the phone. She would have animated, if one sided, soliloquies where she provided the breadth of emotion. Excitement, agitation, hushed anticipation... she had it all. These had the desired effect of giving people the impression that she had a vibrant social life. But the reality was, she was on hold. She called up companies with notoriously poor customer service and while the canned music played, she jabbered away.

That is what I do. When I am embroiled in a stuck relationship, I handle all the talking. I line up points which I have practiced repeatedly, and win the argument. Every time. 

This week I invited someone out for lunch, to talk about our differences. Thankfully, I asked my friend to speak first. What a lucky break. After ten minutes of hearing how life has been for her, my monologue became obsolete. I had no desire to rattle it off. Again. 

It turns out that a two way conversation is more satisfying than a lecture, and I found myself wiping tears away at her story. While I am grateful for the renewed connection, I do heave a sigh of regret over the time I wasted being on hold.