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A Phone Call

December 11, 2009

You say goodnight, and I lay in bed, huddled under the covers, still holding on to my phone.

I’ve got that feeling.  That palpable, physical feeling.  I know it was there for all of those 56 minutes, but I’m only conscious of it now that the line that carried your voice to my ear has been temporarily severed.  It’s that feeling that makes a heart feel heavy and light, all at once.  It makes blood pulse through veins and eyes close in contentment.  It makes a body immovable with the weight of this thing being built on foundations one can only hope will remain solid.

It’s a good feeling.  It’s a little frightening.

I told you tonight that I have been known to get ahead of myself.  A childish tendency, something I seem to have grown out of to an extent, but that I can’t promise the urge won’t creep back into my subconscious and start affecting my behavior.  “I try to keep it under wraps,” I said.

“I think it’ll be fine,” you said.

And I think it will.  You gave me plenty of reasons not to get ahead of myself tonight.  That’s not to say things aren’t going well.  They are.  But there will be very little over-analyzation with you.  Very little mystery.  I always know what’s going on in your head.  You’re not afraid to tell me things I don’t even know to ask.  Or don’t think I should.

But you’ve got weird feelings toward these words, “relationship” and “boyfriend.”  You have to seriously ease your way in.  And even though you throw out more colloquial phrases like, “we are an item,” and more casual terms like “dating,” those two words, “relationship” and “boyfriend…”  I think they just feel too real to you.  Too permanent, maybe.

And that’s fine with me for now.  You care about me.  You love talking to me.  You think I’m remarkable.

And I don’t even know what a relationship is.
I don’t know what love is.
I don’t understand how I spent so much time getting so ahead of myself when I didn’t even know where I was headed.

But I’m laying in bed, clutching this little electronic piece of heaven, the one that brings your voice into my room, even when you’re miles and miles away.

And I’ve got that feeling.

And one thing I know is that I hope you’re feeling it too.
And I hope it doesn’t go away.

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7 Comments leave one →
  1. December 11, 2009 2:49 pm

    this gave me the warm fuzzies. :)

  2. walkingonsunshine18 permalink
    December 11, 2009 5:32 pm

    Awww what a sweet post! :)

  3. December 11, 2009 8:23 pm

    I guarantee this subject matter is already a song you’ve written and I wanna hear it. Or if I already have it I wanna know which one it is.

    Also, posts like this totally make you a blinding ray of sunshine.

  4. December 11, 2009 11:29 pm

    Awwww :-) That’s so sweet :-) and one more :-) just for obnoxious good measure.

  5. December 12, 2009 4:02 pm

    Absolutely remarkable and so relatable. Love it.

    Best,

    Hannah

  6. December 14, 2009 4:47 pm

    i hear ya, babe. i totally get it.

  7. Peter permalink
    December 18, 2009 2:57 pm

    You are a psycho.

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