Phone Call

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Things come to me during the day.

Submitted: October 30, 2007

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 30, 2007



Everyone could see it.  The sadness that clouds us both.  We don't have the same energy as before.  We space out more thinking about the other.  They came to me.

"Fix it."
"You have to fix it."
"Talk to her."
"She misses you."

I call but you don't pick up.  I leave a message.

"It's me.....  They're getting worried about us.  I think we should talk.  Give me a call sometime.  I lo..."

I can't say the last part.  It's too hard.  I hang up.

Days later you call me, but I miss it.  You leave a short message.

"I'm just returning your call."

I call back immediately, my heart racing as it always does when I think of you.  You pick up on the third ring.

"Hey.  It's me."

I imagine the range of emotions playing across your face in that thirty seconds.  Happiness and questioning because the phone is ringing.  Happiness at hearing my voice.  Sadness that comes through in your voice because you remember us.  Confusion about what the problem is.

"They're telling me something is wrong with us.  We're sadder than usual.  Not as energetic.  I've been instructed to talk to you about it."

You try to avoid the topic I'm pushing you to talk about.  I know you want to avoid this conversation, you don't want to hurt me.  You never wanted to hurt me.

"Do you miss me?"
"Don't ask me that."
"I just did.  Do you miss me?"
You sigh, "Yes."
"What do you want?"
"What do you mean?"
"Us, what do you want to happen to us?"
"I.... I don't know.  What do you want?"
"Me?  I want to be stretched out on your couch right now.  I want my head resting in your lap while I trace shapes and lines on your stomach.  I want you playing with my hair while you talk about whatever comes to your head.  I want to breathe in your scent and drift off to sleep listening to your voice.  I want to tell you how much I still love you and miss you.  I want to let you know that there is nothing to worry about.  I won't stray, I won't find someone else, I won't be held down by you.  I want....  I want you."
"Don't say that."

I can hear the quiver in your voice.  You do miss me.  You do love me.  You want just what I want.  But I know your fears are holding you back.  Fears that I'll cheat or you'll cheat.  Fears that it'll just be too far.  Fears that I'll forget about you.  I laugh at myself for that last thought.  If I can't get you out of my mind after two months, what makes you think I'll forget about you if we're together?

You're about to ask why I laughed.
"I already did and I'm not taking any of it back.  That's what I've wanted for the longest time."
"This is why we can't be friends."
"Then lets not be friends.  Lets be more than friends.  I don't care what you call us, I just want us together.  I can't stand not being able to just hold you."

I can feel the frustrated hysterics coming.  I try to hold back the sound of it in my voice.  The desprateness that sneaks in when I'm not paying attention.

We both know what comes next.  You tell me your reasons for why we can't.  Why you can't.  You throw in the new one.  A boy.  You've met a boy.  I've heard it already but you tell me anyway.  You like him, you really like him.  I understand that, and I don't mean to be mean, but you love me.  Not this boy.

After this I know how it goes.  We change the subject, you talk about school, I talk about college life.  Then one of us has to go.  Class, a friend, parent, laundry.

I hang up.  My heart still racing.  Emotions tearing through me, ripping me apart.  I'm angry.  Angry that I'm so far away.  Angry that i don't have a car.  Angry at whatever happened in your childhood to make you fear so much.  Angry that you let your fears conquer you.  Angry at myself for being angry with you.

For the rest of the day I keep myself occupied so that I don't think of you.  The same conversation will probably occur in a month or so again.  Maybe it'll be different then.

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