Elliot = Bold
Isabella = Italics
"Do you think that I talk too much?"
"Um...in all honesty, I've only had one conversation with you so I can't really-"
"That's why I want your opinion. I want an opinion from someone who's fresh, who doesn't really know me well enough to sugarcoat the answer. I know for a fact that if I asked someone close to me that they wouldn't give me a straight answer."
"What...what do you mean?"
"They wouldn't tell me the truth. Or at least, not the full truth. They would completely sugarcoat it, trying not to hurt me by not saying what they really think."
"And that's a bad thing?"
"Of course it is. How am I supposed to get an honest opinion if all they ever do is half lie to me?"
"They're just trying to be nice."
"Yeah, well, sometimes I really wish they weren't so nice. How the hell am I supposed to tell them how I really feel when all they are is nice?"
"I...I don't think I quite understand what you're trying to say."
"I...I can't express my honest opinion to their faces and they can't do it to mine. We're all so caught up in being nice that we forget that a bit of honest criticism of faults is good for us too. We can't...we can't speak the words that we want to say for fear of hurting the other person and that...that's not right. We should be able to express our opinions without worrying what the other person has to say about it."
"So, you're saying it's okay to insult people?"
"No...no. Not that at all. It's just the important things, you know? Like when...when...imagine you're in a relationship."
"...right."
"And...and you know that you can never love the person that so obviously loves you."
"...right."
"But you keep your mouth shut because you don't want to hurt their feelings."
"What has...what has this got to do with talking too much?"
"I...I...recently I've come to realise that I talk. A lot."
"I don't see why that's a problem. It's just who you are. Like, I stutter a lot because I'm a naturally nervous person and you talk a lot because that's just who you are and how you choose to be."
"But...but it's more than that."
"It is?"
"I'm afraid of silence. I talk so much that I don't let anyone else get a word in. And I talk about such nonsense. The stuff I talk about isn't significant. It's just...a...a silence filler. It's just there because...I don't want to hear what anyone else has to say. I...I'm scared of what they'll say if I stop talking. I'm scared that they'll have time to think if I stop talking, that they'll realise that I'm not...that I'm not worth being around."
"That's completely ridiculous."
"..."
"Look, I'm sure this is all in your head. You can't...you can't let the insecurities make you doubt yourself like this. If you wanna talk, talk and...if anyone has a problem with that, screw them because talking is who you are and you can't let silly little doubts take that away from you."
"You say that and yet, you're the one who hung up after being overwhelmed by me blabbering on about my usual nonsense."
"Because...because I didn't know you. I still don't. It was just...different to hear someone talk so much. I'm usually such a quiet person and it...it was strange to talk to someone who so obviously talked to fill the silence. As someone who usually enjoys the thinking space silence provides, it was...overwhelming, yes but after our last conversation I...I realised something."
"What?"
"You make up for my silence. When I don't feel like talking, which is pretty often, you fill in the gaps and it's kind of...nice. It makes it very easy to talk to you."
"But...but it's not just what others think. It's the why of it all."
"The why of what?"
"Why I talk so much."
"Why do you talk so much?"
"To cover up all that I want to say. I talk so much because I have so many important things to say but I just can't...I can't say them. Every time I try to express my honest opinion, nonsense rambling comes out because I can't bear saying what I was going to say in case it hurts the person's feelings. The rambling it's...it's in place of what I really want to say."
"..."
"You don't know what to say to that, huh?"
"..."
"I'm not surprised. I'm pretty messed up."
"No...no. It's just ironic. You talk for the same reason I don't. There are...there are so many things I want to say but instead I keep silent. You...you fill in the unsaid words by jabbering on about nonsense and I, well...I don't say anything at all."
"Guess we have more in common than I first thought."
"Well, if we have more in common then I guess we should know each other's names."
"I...I guess so."
"Isabella."
"Elliot."