The Call

At 2:30 this afternoon my phone rang. It was him. I knew it before I even looked at the caller ID. (I am not a psychic; he has his own ringtone on my phone, so as soon as I heard it, I knew.) He was calling. A million things ran through my head as I scrambled to answer the phone and pause the music that was playing on my computer. "Why was he calling? Should I answer? Isn't it too soon? What am I going to say?" along with many more thoughts and questions.

I answered, and the first thing I thought that it was so good to hear his voice. He asked me how I was doing, and for a split second, I considered lying, saying that I was fine, doing well. I knew he would see right through that though, but more importantly, I did not want to lie. So, I told him that I had been better, but that I knew I would be okay. He said he was feeling the same. I asked him if we made a mistake. I know we did not, but I needed to hear him say that. I needed to know that he felt it was right also. And he did. He told me exactly what I needed to hear, from the exact person I needed to say it.

And then we talked. Just talked, as if nothing had changed. But it had changed, and we both knew it. Yet, we were still able to talk, to carry on a conversation like we had before, without anything being weird or awkward. We talked for fifteen minutes, and then I had to go. But when I hung up the phone, I did so feeling better about everything. I knew then that we would remain friends, that we would not just fall out of touch and as if the past two years had not happened. Yes, it still hurts, but it is not as sharp. After that phone call, I not only knew that we would remain friends, but I also knew that despite how much it hurts at times, that I will be fine, and so will he.