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I have a reputation for running my mouth, and in the past I'd say it was pretty much justified. Over time, I fell silent. It just so happened that—for days, weeks, and months at a time—I was living non-verbally until my partner came home.

If you're in an empty house, and there's nobody to talk to. Do you talk?

So. Now when people imply that I "talk too much," I can't help but grin, because they have no idea how wrong they are.

Except, nobody implies this anymore. Nobody has any reason to. I became a recluse and that was more or less where the story ended.

  *  *  *

...Except y'all know this story has only just barely begun.

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