I don’t like talking on the phone with you. And I’ll always tell you that it’s because I hate my voice.
I don’t like video conferences, and I’ll always tell you that it’s because I hate how the video and audio never sync properly because of my horrible internet connection.
The only reason we text is because I don’t quite want to go a day without your presence around me.
But if I were to be brutally true to you, I don’t like the phone because it reduces you to sound waves, and I don’t like video because it reduces you to pixels on my tiny screen, and it bothers me that I can’t feel you, touch you, smell you, or know you’re, in the simplest of terms, alive, and metabolizing next to me, because when we’re together, between us, in quiet symphony, even the absolute stillness speaks.