I have always hated small talk.

Not because I'm above discussing laundry detergent or the weather, but because I would much rather skip ahead to the real stuff.

The fears.

The hopes.

The things that keep us awake at night.

What I'm beginning to realize, though, is that the deep conversations I love rarely appear out of nowhere. More often, they're built on hundreds of seemingly insignificant moments that slowly teach us we can trust one another.

Maybe small talk isn't the obstacle to connection.

Maybe it's the foundation.

“Thank you for giving me a second chance to be your friend and rebuild our bond.”

A what?

For ten years, this beautiful friend of mine thought she was living on a second chance with me…while I had no idea anything had ever been broken.

I’ve always thought repair meant something was broken.
I’m starting to learn…it might be what makes something stronger.

The way I know it’s avoidance is how it sits in my gut.
Risen shoulders.
A pit in my stomach.
And a knowing that I need to go see him…
but I don’t.

I wrote about choosing curiosity over being right—and then immediately found myself choosing being right. This isn’t about what I said. It’s about the posture of my heart… and what happens when being right matters more than being loving.

Sometimes relationships don’t fall apart because of betrayal or cruelty. Sometimes they fall apart because curiosity disappears. When we stop asking questions and start assuming we already know someone, we stop being partners and start being opponents.

Family isn’t always blood or paperwork or who came first.
Sometimes it’s a picture left on the wall. A ride to therapy. An ex-husband who becomes a teammate.
Sometimes love doesn’t make a scene — it just keeps saying yes.