Conversational Chemistry

"So, what about me attracts you then?" she asked.

"Well, the boobs of course, they're GREAT," I answered cheekily, followed by an equally cheeky chuckle, as she pulled an expression of semi-amusement and semi-embarrassment in response to my answer.

She let out a short sigh, perhaps one of resignation to my ever-so-flippant attitude. Silence engulfed us as we watched a plane slowly pulling up to the runway. An all-too-familiar intro of "Breaking my Heart" started playing in the background.

"I'm on the floor, counting one minute more. No one to break the silence," sang the vocalist of the 90s semi-boyband in his raspy tone.

"Conversational Chemistry." I said, aptly and ironically breaking the silence.

"Huh? What's that?" she asked, as the plane took its position on the runway, readying itself for take-off. Its tail squarely faced us, with the silhouette of the plane completely shrouded in darkness, while 3 red lights served as the only indicator of its presence.

"Keep your eye on the 3 red lights, and see if it moves. When it does, you know that the plane is about to gonna take off," I said, momentarily distracting her in my typical randomness. She leaned forward in her seat, watching whole-heartedly.

"Well, I don't really know how to put it to you exactly; but its just something about you that stirs me into a deeper conversation," I said, as she listened intently, expecting to hear more.

"It's like, a kinda feeling that stretches beyond the level of linguistic ability or verbal communication. I mean, I know people who are probably more on par with my linguistic ability; people who can fully appreciate all the sarcastic undertones, witty innuendos and double entendres that I litter in my conversations, and sometimes even match me wit for wit. But yet, despite the compatibility in communication, something about them just doesn't stir me enough for me to want to bare my soul," I explained, as she stared deep into my eyes with her huge, round eyes, nodding in acknowledgement.

"But you are different," I continued. "While I think that quite a lot of my linguistic charm is 'Lost in Translation' when it comes to you, there is just something about you that stirs me to converse on a deeper level with you, something that stirs me to talk; about my deeper thoughts, my honest opinions, my heartfelt emotions." I saw a tiny glint light up in her eyes, perhaps one of joy or appreciation.

I turned in front and stared out at the runway, perhaps to disrupt the intensity of the moment.

"I can't really explain why, but I would guess that it comes down to a level of comfort. Even though you might be totally compatible with someone in terms of verbal communication, it doesn't necessarily mean that you can establish the level of comfort to talk about the deeper things, things that stir your very soul," I said, pausing briefly.

"Barriers of political-correctness, societal-defined tact & formalities, conditioned emotional wariness, and the fear of judgment often stand in the way of the establishment of that level of conversational comfort that would allow you to expose yourself so much to another. And in my opinion, it takes a form of chemistry, a greater connection between two people to be able to converse on the level of the soul. That chemistry, is Conversational Chemistry, understand?" I asked, stroking her gently on the chin.

She gave a resounding "Umm" as she nodded.

"Then again, maybe its just because you don't argue or object very much when I talk about myself, and knowing what a egotist I am, I just enjoy talking about myself," I said sheepishly, as we both laughed.

As the laughter died down, I looked out of the windscreen at the runway, and abruptly exclaimed, "Shit! The 3 red lights are gone. Since when did the plane take-off?"

She shrugged her shoulders, equally puzzled.

......Perhaps Romance has an equally stealthy way of taking flight as well.