Sure, it’s not everyone; there have been notable exceptions. But in the last year or so of dating, I’ve started picking up on a depressing pattern: if I kick off a conversation with the person seated across from me by asking a question about his life — if I pass him the conch shell, to borrow a literary symbol — he will simply run with it and never give it back.
Ask me what I do
Lauren Hallden

Welcome to my hell! I’m so sorry.

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