Posts Tagged ‘phone call’

I’d Like To Speak

April 13, 2018

To the manager please.

Except.

I didn’t say that.

I did say, nicely, politely, with lots of pauses and deep, slow breathing, that I had been calling every day for the last four days, four, and that I really wanted to make an appointment with the doctor.

REALLY.

I expressed how much pain I have been in and how it’s been really hard to not be able to get through to the part of the story where I make an appointment and I’m seen.

REALLY fucking hard.

The woman on the line gave me another number to call.

How many fucking numbers am I going to have to call to get to be seen?

I am not good at this, and I wonder, is anyone?  But I played along and called the next number and sure as shit, I got a voicemail saying please leave a message and someone will get back to you within the next 24 hours.

Fuck you.

I mean.

REALLY.

I hung up.

I called my person, I left a teary message.

I sank down on the floor and cried a little.

The baby was playing by the train set and the oldest boy was in his room with a new Lego set grandma had gotten him.

I had a minute to cry and then I got up, blew my nose, and started a kettle for a cup of tea.

You know who called me back?

My person.

Fucking love him.

And he told me to get up early and go to the doctor’s office in person and make the appointment there and demand to be seen.

Ugh.

Just the thought of trying to do that felt horrendous and huge and awful and I had this inkling that the mom was going to ask me to come in early, which she did, but more on that later, and I couldn’t imagine getting up early, driving down town and marching into CPMC Sutter and pounding on the desk to get an appointment with the GI specialist that my doctor referred me to.

But.

I was willing to take it as a suggestion.

Honestly though, I wasn’t sure I could do it.

Fortunately.

A few hours later when I was wrapping up dinner dishes and the family was happily eating dinner, I got a call back!

I was shocked.

It was 5:30 p.m. and I wasn’t expecting any kind of response after 5p.m. had rolled on by.

It was the manager of the office!

She was super kind and very apologetic.

She’d listened to my message and combed over the records from the answering service and apparently there was no record of any of the phone calls I had made.

Not a single one!

I have called the office every day since I got the referral on Monday.

Monday, two hours after the initial appointment at One Medical.

On Monday I was told that the office hadn’t had a chance to look at the referrals yet and the doctor would look them over and call on Tuesday.

By three p.m. Tuesday I hadn’t heard a thing.

So I called and spoke to a woman who took all my information and assured me that someone from the office would get back to me in the next 24 hours.

24 hours later, Wednesday around 3 p.m., nada, not a single fucking call.

So.

I called back.

This time I got through to the doctor’s office and was told that they had never received a fax from the referring doctor.

Fuck my mother.

So.

I called One Medical, and they denied that, insisted they’d faxed it, but said, hey, we’ll do it again.

Then the guy at One Medical did me one better, I have to say I am impressed so far with them, great customer service, he called the office himself.

He then called me back and said he’d re-faxed the paper work, apparently the fax machine at the GI’s office had gone down on Monday and they were inundated with a back log of faxes.

Sure.

Sounded an awful lot like the dog at my homework, but whatever.

So I called back to the office and spoke to a woman there who said they’d received a partial fax, but not the entire thing and the doctor would call me tomorrow.

Which brings me to today.

And no phone call by 3 p.m.

Which led me to call the office again and this time I got the answering service again and I got upset and I was not in tears, but I was pissed, and I held it together, but I made it super clear to the woman I was talking to that I wasn’t going to leave a message so that I could be called back in the next 24 hours, I was in pain and I had been trying since Monday and I needed help.

That’s when she gave me the manager’s number, although at the time I thought she was giving me a direct number to the GI’s office.

No such luck.

Grateful though, that I pushed and got through to someone and really grateful that the woman took the time to call me back, after business hours, get me into the system fully and assured me that she would personally make it her business to have the doctor’s office book my appointment tomorrow.

I admit, I had a fantasy that I would get the referral and already be done with it by this point and have some sort of resolution.

And although that’s not what happened, at least I do know that I have taken the next step towards something.

I hope to hell I can get this taken care of.

I am so tired of it.

Really.

Really.

REALLY.

Tired.

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Over The Annoyance

February 14, 2018

But it stuck for a moment.

I got the last-minute, as I was opening the door to leave for my internship, request from the mom to come in early tomorrow morning.

I didn’t want to come in early.

And.

I couldn’t say no.

I had to cancel a chiropractor appointment, which blows and I’m still unhappy about, my back was bothering me today, is bothering me now, and I could have really used the work.

Especially since I’ll be on an overnight red-eye to D.C. Thursday night.

However.

The annoyance passed once I was in session with my client.

And by the time I had wrapped with my second client I was completely past it.

Oh.

I suppose I’m still inconvenienced, it would have been a good thing to have my back adjusted, but ultimately I won’t be getting up earlier than I would have had I just gone tot the appointment.

Granted I won’t be doing much of my morning routine at the house.

I’ll be getting up at 6:30 a.m. and just getting ready to go straight to work.

I’m going to skip coffee and breakfast at home and have it at the house.

Gratefully I will only have the baby in the morning and hopefully he’ll do a double nap day.

And even if he doesn’t I will be happy to be one day closer to leaving for the East Coast.

I don’t know how much more eager I can be for my trip.

I am so ready to fly the coop.

Today seemed to utterly drag and I think that may have also played into the annoyance at being asked to come in early.

It doesn’t always happen that I go in early on Wednesdays, but it’s beginning to be a little more and more of a habit for the parents to ask.

I don’t like working a ten-hour nanny shift.

It’s too draining.

And when I add into it that I haven’t had a day off, since I was in school all weekend, for a week and a half, working a ten-hour day when I was expecting an 8 hour day is not at all appealing.

Then again.

Few more bucks in my wallet for travel spending.

That’s what I’m telling myself anyway.

Oh well.

I’ll be tired tomorrow, but I will have a good day.

As it will be one day closer to my vacation.

I am so ready for the time off.

I am so looking forward to it.

It will probably go by quickly and I will wonder how the time flew by when I fly out on Sunday.

Today the mom was talking to me about plans for next week and I couldn’t bear to think about it.

I don’t want to think about next week at all.

I just want to think about this week, this weekend, this travel.

Fuck next week.

Don’t even talk to me about it.

Next week will be taxes and homework and getting my application together for my PhD program.

This weekend.

Well.

Suffice to say.

There will be no homework.

There will be no clients.

There will be no group supervision.

There will only be me and my best friend and time to do all the things that we have been talking about doing like a couple of giddy teenagers.

On the phone for hours, making plans, hatching ideas, giggling.

Well.

I giggle.

Laughing and free and happy to get to see each other.

It is such a gift.

I am so grateful that I booked this ticket, made this plan.

Especially since I didn’t really do any trip this past semester, I try to let myself have a trip right after the semester ends to dangle a little carrot to get me through.

This carrot was delayed a few months.

I’m happy I finally get to have a nibble on it.

I do also plan to do some travel after I graduate in May.

I’m just not quite sure what that looks like yet.

I have to wait for my employers to figure out what they are going to be doing as far as travel goes.

My plans hinge on theirs as there is the off-chance that I may travel with them for some part of their vacation.

My friend in Paris has also alerted me that she and her husband will be traveling to a wedding July 21st, so that I should not book around that time.

Of course, that feels like the time when my employers will be over in Europe, but I’ll just have to wait and see what comes up.

I also still have a ticket voucher to use up.

I couldn’t get the travel dates that worked for my friend via the airlines that I had the voucher for and just said fuck it and bought the ticket.

I know I should have consulted my friend, but man, I was just too excited by the prospect to not buy the ticket.

I’m so glad I did.

It will be epic.

But, yes I do have a $485 flight voucher to use up by October 15th.

There is travel in my future after D.C.

Grateful for that too.

But first.

D.C.

Oh baby.

I am so ready.

So.

So.

So.

Ready.

Seriously.

Mid-term Madness

October 23, 2017

And I’m done.

I’m done with my mid-terms.

See you later Felicia.

Bye.

I was up late last night doing my CBT homework and reading, I had to have an assignment turned in and yesterday was far busier than I had thought it was going to be, especially since I made up my solo supervision right after my group supervision (my solo supervisor was on vacation last week and I must have a certain amount of supervision to see clients, I went over the amount that just doing my group would cover) and then did some errands and went and did the deal.

Fuck that was good.

I got exactly what I needed.

And then I came home, ate a late dinner, did some CBT reading, talked with my best friend, then when we wrapped up I went into the rest of it and did the assignment and got it done.

Today I let myself sleep 8 hours.

So sexy.

Then got up and went to yoga, even though I knew it was going to be a challenging class, which it was, oh my god the amount of sweat, but it was also super good to be in my body and not in my head about my homework.

I had some moments of anxiety yesterday when I was trying to figure out how to get the work done in between just doing the daily chores of living that I needed to take care of, like laundry and grocery shopping.

My weekdays are generally pretty full, work, clients, etc, and then when I am loaded up with homework the weekends become a push to make it all happen.

Thankfully I just took it moment to moment and it got done.

It all got done.

Oh sure.

I still have reading to do, but I won’t have class for a couple of weekends, my next weekend of classes is November, 9, 10, 11.

So there is a little time to do the reading that still needs to be done and I will have another paper I have to write, but it’s not due until I’m actually in class.

My Transpersonal Psychology paper had to be done today.

It is due on Tuesday, but fuck me, like I’d have any kind of time to write it tomorrow or Tuesday.

I have solo supervision tomorrow at 9 a.m., work from 11-6p.m. and two clients from 6:30-8:30 p.m.  Not really a day that screams extra time to write a mid-term.

And same on Tuesday, 9:30 a.m. my own therapy, and the work and clients is the same.

I had to do it today.

And I got it done.

It went fast.

It was an easy paper for me to write.

I knew when I read the description of what the paper needed to be about that I would be able to knock it out in an hour, hour and a half tops.

It wasn’t a super long paper, four pages, and I can write that pretty quick.

I have the word.

Worlds of words.

I’m a little word whore.

I love language and writing and poetry and I find it all comes together when I’m writing academic papers.

I have a method that works really well for me, the only catch being is that I must read everything that is pertinent to the paper, it’s where I get my ideas on what to write on.

I underline and highlight and star things that resonate with me.

Then when it’s time to write the paper I go through my books and readers and I look at the things that I star and then I take post it notes and jot down what works for the paper.

I usually end up with much more material than I could reference, I did this time, the paper required 2-3 references and I used 4.

I wrote the full four pages too, and I could have written a couple more.

Writing a short paper or piece can actually be harder, I’m good at rambling.

I like to use pretty language and make pictures on the paper.

Suffice to say I wrote the paper fairly quick and I was happy with the outcome.

I proofed it and saved it and then sent the T.A. a copy and my professor a copy.

I’ll have one more paper, which will be bigger as it’s the final paper, plus a group project for this class before the semester is over.

I haven’t yet cracked the reading for the next set of classes, but I had read everything for this past weekend, so yeah, the paper was fresh in my head and quite easy to just let it all come out.

So, so, so stinking grateful for my blog practice.

It has helped me in more ways than I can enumerate.

And, yes, it’s a nice way to shake the rest of the day out of my body and be present in the moment, sitting happy and calm and relaxed in my body.

Listening to Leonard Cohen and feeling dreamy.

Thinking about my next tattoo.

Not worrying about the week.

The week will happen.

The time will pass.

And the next week shall come without me being anxious about it.

Actually next weekend could be pretty nice for me, I don’t think I have to write anything big for the next weekend of classes, though I know I’ll need to double-check, aside from a short two page paper on whatever dream happens to happen for me in the next week or two.

I haven’t had any that I can remember.

Just little snippets of things.

I am a dreamy lady though, I suspect there will be something to write on.

Grateful I made it through my weekend and though I didn’t exactly have time off, days without needing to be somewhere or do something, I did get enough of being outside in the sun.

I read outside for two hours today and ate a meal on my back porch which was super lovely.

I did talk with people I love.

I did meet with a lady and do the deal.

And yes.

I got my mid-terms finished.

I’ll take it.

Yes.

Yes I fucking will.

Thank you very much.

Opt Out

April 16, 2017

I was going to go out tonight, not like crazy out, just out to dinner with the folks after doing the deal.

But.

I decided to come home, cook dinner here, and get the rest of my things organized.

I have a load of school work to handle in the next few weeks.

I was able to organize some friends of mine to help me re-do the Couples Therapy dyad that I did at school last weekend but somehow failed to get a proper recording.

I will be taking care of that tomorrow, making sure that the recording is doing just that, recording, and then I have a paper to write.

I will most likely do the Couples Therapy paper first.

It is the first that is due.

And, of course, rain is in the forecast for tomorrow, so no scooter.

I will need to MUNI or take a car to meet my people up at Firewood Cafe tomorrow, I don’t really care though, I am just so happy that I was able to get a couple of people to help me.

It has been a little stress that I can now put behind me, get the session recorded and then get on with the paper.

I did realize the day before yesterday too, that my Trauma class still has some reading due for the next weekend of classes.

So.

I may just use the MUNI train rides as an opportunity to be sitting still in one place and doing the reading.

I did manage to get a chapter read of the material in between my job and doing the deal on Friday, but I have some more to do.

I think I may actually be able to knock it out by the time I do all the MUNI train rides.

I may also say fuck that and just take a car share.

I’m not too anxious, but I have to focus on getting the work done, I have to.

I only have a few weeks to do it and I want to be staying on top of it.

I basically have to write a paper each weekend, starting tomorrow, one per weekend up until the last weekend of classes.

I was joking with a friend today that it makes absolutely no sense to me to go to the last weekend of classes, since all my papers will be due the first day of classes, what’s the point of doing the full three days?

I mean.

Seriously.

I already know I will go and participate, mostly because I just really love my cohort and I have gotten really close to a few of my friends there.

I get to have a slumber party with one of my girl friends who’s going to stay over night at my place the Thursday night before classes so we can spend time together.

It’s super nice to have that.

And.

Sometimes I also have to take me time.

I had a few other things I opted out of doing today and though I miss the people and the friends, I really needed to do some self-care.

I went to yoga this morning.

I met with a ladybug and did the deal.

I went grocery shopping and made plans for what I will cook tomorrow.

I mean, a paper calls for me to make soup.

I am going to try something new tomorrow–hot and sour soup with shrimp, bok choy, carrots, hen of the wood mushrooms, crimini mushrooms, and tofu.

I had a bowl of really good hot and sour soup last weekend at an anniversary dinner for a friend and I realized, I can make this!

And so, I’m going to try.

I am actually pretty damn pleased with the stuff in my pantry right now.

Healthy, clean, lots of veggies and fruit, top grade high-end espresso, unsweetened coconut milk, organic tea.

Yeah.

It’s looking good.

Once I busted out the shopping I also busted out the laundry and cleaned up my closet.

I got a bag of stuff to sell, which became a bag of stuff to donate.

I only sold two of the articles of clothing, which happens sometimes, but I ran the rest of the stuff over to Good Will and happily made a donation.

It felt good to clear some space and tidy up my stuff.

I also took a dress to get altered that I ordered a while back, but the bodice is wonky on it, everything else fits perfect, but the bodice was actually too big.

Which is hella unusual.

I wear a 38 D.

Anyway, super happy I took care of that errand.

And.

Yes.

Finally.

I got a god damn mani/pedi and my eyebrows waxed.

I can always tell how busy I am by the state of my nails.

I was just too busy the last three weeks to attend to them, I didn’t have a speck of time to deal with them, two year previous, when I wasn’t in school, I was pretty on point, every week a manicure, every three weeks a mani/pedi/eye brow wax.

Now.

I’m like, oh my god, what just happened to my eyebrows and what the fuck are my nails doing.

If I get in once a month it’s a big fucking deal.

Plus it’s a time suck.

I mean.

I love my girl time.

But to take two hours, sometimes two and a half, depending on how busy the salon is, is a huge amount of luxury time.

I missed seeing a friend who came into the city, but I really needed my self-care, I needed to do my things and I’m ok with it.

It’s finding a balance.

I don’t always do it well, but I try, I give it a persistent, concerted effort.

I talked to another friend on the phone and we’re going to try to get together sometime soon as well.

Ugh.

It’s hard.

Another reason for opting out tonight was the person I was supposed to meet up with at the 7p.m. deal, called and cancelled last-minute, a close friend had to go and put down her dog.

So.

I had not much pull to go to dinner, then I thought, well, this might be good, get home, get your alarm set for an early start, get your stuff organized, and go to bed early.

I mean.

Not super early.

But earlier than I would have had I gone out to dinner, fact is, I’d still be out right now, I’m grateful that I chose this, I will choose socializing again, I promise.

I will catch up with friends.

I will.

I won’t always opt out.

I opted out of a date for tomorrow night.

Oh.

Did you catch that.

Yes.

I opted out of a date because I have to write this paper.

But.

There is a date still happening.

Another night this week when I have a tiny bit of breathing space after doing work and speaking at the spot, so we’re going to go grab a bite Thursday.

Yeah.

Heh.

I got the phone call back.

And I was right.

There is a connection.

And there was a good reason why the return call took the time it did.

Not to get into details, but it made sense and I’m intrigued to see what happens.

But that’s neither here nor there, focusing on right now.

A brief respite and a cup of tea.

The final push for the semester starts very.

Very.

Very.

Soon.

Like in less than twelve hours.

Here we go.

See you on the other side.

Night y’all.

Sweet dreams and all that.

Sugar cube.

Jazz.

Mystified

April 15, 2017

And over it.

I have had so many suggestions about dating.

“You have to ask for what you want,” a friend said.

Yes.

I fucking get that and when I do, I still don’t get what I want.

I’m not bitter, but befuddled.

I had a guy friend break down the whole “we should hang out sometime,” as a really weak way of asking a girl out and that it’s quite prevalent in the dating culture.

Well.

Good to know.

So.

When complaining, yes, I do complain, I am not a fucking saint, if I was I wouldn’t need y’all and I still need you, despite my weak protestations, to another friend, I was told, “you have to get clarification.”

Ask the person when do you want to hang out.

So.

I did.

And.

Well.

NOTHING.

I got the intuition, I know you’re interested, I can see it in your eyes, you’ve got some mojo I’ve got some mojo, let’s get together and have some fun.

He gave me his number.

He said, “call me,” in fact, he repeated it twice.

I said I would.

I, in fact did.

No response.

I started to second guess the whole thing in hindsight today, but then I rethought it again, it’s not my issue.

I got clarity.

That’s all.

I called.

I left a message, I said, “let’s nail down a time to have a coffee date,” and truth be told, I probably bumble fucked my way through it.

Not even a text back.

Dude.

Hahahaha.

I just wrote “dud,” before correcting it to dude, but maybe dud was not quite the Freudian slip I thought it was.

Dud.

Drawing a blank, dum dum bullet, faulty switch.

It’s you not me.

I insist.

I know you find me attractive, I’ve known since I first met you and when I saw you yesterday and we slipped right back into the easy, intellectual banter that I have come to hallmark our few conversations, I could feel it.

I gave you my phone.

You put your phone number in it.

Granted.

I had asked for a speaking engagement, it’s not like you were putting your phone number in my phone because we were going to get it on later that evening.

No.

I asked you to do service.

And you said yes.

And I said super.

And that was about it.

Until.

You caught up with me a little later and we conversed, and conversed, and conversed, until the room was empty and everyone was walking out the door.

That’s when you opened the door to the phone call and said, “we should really get together, hang out, talk, call me, really, call me.”

I replied “I would love to hang out.”

Now.

Maybe this is where I fucked it up.

Maybe, the friend who gave the advice about guys motives when they say “hang out” was not an ask for a date and I should have clarified immediately.

But.

I went from the gut, the feeling, the look in your eyes.

Because I’m gullible sometimes.

But.

I’m not stupid.

I also have a lot of experience now seeing when men are attracted to me and nothing happens and then years later I find out they were attracted to me and that I was right.

I’m right.

You’re attracted to me, you weren’t asking for a friend hang out, I know it.

Grr.

I don’t know which one of my guy friends to slap.

And then.

I think.

Ah, fuck it, I killed the fantasy, which in the end is always so super valuable.

He didn’t call back.

No response is a response and it’s about as good and obvious as a flat-out no.

And frankly.

I’m fucking proud of myself for sacking up and calling him.

I didn’t text.

I called.

I left a message.

It may have been awkward, but I did it.

I took action.

I remind myself, that the results are not mine and I have no regrets.

I wouldn’t change the sequence of events to “I wish I hadn’t bothered to call,” because I am so super glad that I did.

I mean.

Good for you, girlfriend, another one out-of-the-way between you and whomever is next.

I’m really ready for next.

I’m not actively searching, no, I’m just ready.

That’s all.

I’m happy about that, that I’m not looking, I’m not trying to get on some new dating app, although the brain flirts with it once in a while, no, I’m just ready, available.

I’m proud of myself.

I keep trying.

That says something.

Sure.

I experience frustration and sure, this is a thing, this thing I keep writing about, but believe that all is not for naught, that there is learning here, that I have to keep changing and growing and loving myself for who I am.

I really am not looking for a completion.

I complete myself and I won’t be complete until I die.

I am excited to keep growing and changing and loving and trying new stuff.

Life is fucking amazing and awesome and I’ve come so far and have so much further to go.

Yet.

I long for someone to walk along with, carrying a conversation with, have fun with, connect with.

It is natural to want to partner up, it doesn’t mean I know how to do it, or am upset with myself for being single nor am I in self-pity.

My life is good and my growth, astounding.

I just find myself a bit bewildered.

It is my growing edge.

The not knowing.

And also the ok with the not knowing.

I like to say I like surprises.

But that’s a fucking lie.

I do like anticipation.

But not surprises.

Perhaps this is God’s way of getting me ready for a surprise I will really cotton to.

Who knows.

I obviously don’t.

Getting down with the unknown.

Throwing my own dance party to a soundtrack that is in another language.

God’s time.

God’s will.

Not mine.

Sigh.

Ha.

Oh, resignation, look at you.

Or shall I say instead.

Surrender.

Over and over and over again.

Powerless over it all.

Fucking all of it.

Help me God.

Seriously.

Hello Again

September 18, 2014

Old friend.

I was sitting in the sunshine, sipping a cup of herbal chai tea, relaxing with a book, flirting with a stranger on 7th and Irving, waiting for the clock to slowly tick its way to 6p.m.

I don’t know why I check my phone.

But some ties are timeless and sometimes you just know.

I didn’t know the number on the caller id.

I don’t know anyone who would be calling me from Minnesota.

I saw I had a voicemail.

I listened.

The call had come in two minutes prior.

Despite having the ring off and not having the vibrate on, something resonated in me and I had looked on the phone, looked to see the message, looked up to listen when the handsome man in his 40s sat down across from me at the cafe, regarding my bare toes with some amusement, I almost expected him to kick off his work shoes and join me in my feckless bare toe extravaganza.

I listened to the voicemail instead and called back the number.

My finger just hit it.

Sort of like a junkie plunging a needle or a rat tripping a lever on a maze.

I got my piece of cheese.

The man sat across from me, handsome, flirtatious, get off the phone I said to myself, too late, too captured already by old habits, old friends, old ideas, and old sentiments.

Pulled almost immediately back into the Midwest and school girl longings and old-fashioned, old-time, old worn out ideas of crushes and first loves.

Yeah.

That was the friend who called.

Two years and out of the blue.

A phone call.

And like it is with some friends, the immediacy of the friendship comes back and there is no pause, there is just the immediate plunge back into the friendship.

Like the panels of a cartoon the ellipses between two panels may denote seconds or days or weeks, perhaps months or years or decades, but the time is gone in a flash. the tether of the space between the two moments is tied and leapt over with nary a thought.

What took you so long to call?

I know why I did not.

I did not have his number.

I lost it right before I went to Paris.

I love my friend.

He is the oldest friend I have, the person who has known me the longest and seen me the most in the bottom of despair as I have ever gotten to, from the young age of fifteen to the not so advanced, but still starting to get up there in age, 41 years old.

Which means he has known me and I him for 26 years.

That’s no small time to sneeze at.

And we probably could regal each other easily with old bawdy tales of high school, or after high school hijinks.

Actually it was the after high school high jinks that probably connected us in a much tighter means than the actual school days.

I love my friend.

I repeat.

But I do not love where my head goes in connection to him.

And I do not love that I chose to return his call when there was a lovely man sitting across from me who wanted to engage, yet, I could not, I was pulled into the conversation.

Why had I picked up the phone?

Why had a returned the call?

And why do you call me to tell me you broke up with the woman you were in a relationship with for so long?

Why is not a spiritual question and I don’t ask it often.

But I did, in rapid succession, watching the man’s interest in me fade, he finished his coffee, raised an eyebrow, stood, smiled at me with a wry look, and sauntered off into the sunset.

Or at least the Inner Sunset.

But out of my line of sight and right on down the road.

I love my friend.

But I do not love the threadbare idea of waiting for him or even looking like I am or that we were ever, ever, ever meant to be anything more than friends.

Let me slay this idea now.

Which is part of why I have not gotten a hold of him.

I know his name, I know his family, I know where his parents are and I have their numbers, I could have called, but I wanted to leave him be.

I wanted to let me be with the history and leave it at that, history, a fond recollection of love and friendship, some longing, and hazy romantic fantasy regret that was already so long ago abandoned.

“Your only amends to him,” she said, leaning over the table in the cafe, “is to leave him alone.”

I was mad you see.

Though my friend was uncertain when we spoke tonight when the last time we had spoken was, I remembered.

I did not until he had mentioned it.

Then.

There.

Valentines Day.

Two years ago.

He called because he was thinking of me.

No fair.

Foul ball.

You don’t get to do that.

Not when you live thousands of miles away and you know our history, I cry, no fair.

No fair to say you were driving through the countryside and thinking of me; not on Valentine’s Day, nope.  I don’t think so.

So, you know, I did some inventory and I took the suggestion and I left it be, I left him be.

Oh.

Yeah.

He popped up.

Now and again, I would want to talk to him and tell him about my adventures.

But now I wonder.

If he’s a fantasy, if the story I told myself for so long was an idealized romantic story that was never going to pan out, no way to change that which is unchangeable, what if I was a fantasy for him too?

What did I bring to him?

Undying affection, adoration, some sort of ego balm?

Does it matter?

I don’t know.

I don’t know what the future will bring, we’ll be friends and maybe some day down the road we’ll hang out again and it will be exactly what it’s always been-a tale of two misfit friends that circumstance threw together.

And nothing more.

The love will always be there.

But the fantasy does not need to be.

I am done with that story.

I allow myself a new chapter.

A new tale.

A different future.

My future is mine.

Not his.

 


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