in vain

We used to talk. I mean, really, talk. We could talk about anything, and at any time. Especially at night. Lately, however, its like I'm talking to a wall. I sit directly in front of you, leaning slightly forward, elbows to knees, while you stare straight ahead, making genuine attempts to keep gravity from letting your eyes fall upon mine. The most I can get from you are short answers to my questions, like an interview rather than conversation. A wall. No worries, I quit. There are three other walls in this room anyway.