lizardqueen dream of a phonecall]


M:Ive been looking for you nearly 3 years now.
H:I know that.
M:Youve been hiding nearly 17.
H:Seems I didnt do a good job.
M:Well was it worth it? Is life what you aimed for?
H:I wasnt aiming
M:What would you call it then?
H:From questions like this.
M:Well i wouldnt of had to ask them
H:Obviously you think I left with ease
M:Probably easier than it was for me to call
H:Well what were you expecting? What did you think would happen?
M:I thought maybe youd give a fuck.
H:I see your mother lets you cuss.
M:I see she has a shitty taste in men.
H:Im your father god-damnit.
M:Funny, the title never occured to you before.
H:I have a family now
M:Really? Thats wonderful. I have a birth certificate with your last name on it.
H:Did you call only to attack me? Do you know why you called at all?
M:good question

~gez~ ..and then i got a phone call, saying my mom and dad were going to be home in about ten minutes. what a wounder, would it have killed them to take any longer than that?
ah well, it was still great
silentbob i need a raincoat 021024
Casey Mike isn't here. 021025
silentbob "Not too bad," he thought. "No damage done. That takes care of that."
But he leaned against his door, the white paint chips flaking off onto the clothes masking the carpet. And he hated her. Hated her with as much intensity as he loved her with. He thought of her face, the curve of her smile, specific to her mouth and her lips. Her teeth. Her gums. Her tongue. A tongue that had once been his. Or had it?
Sunday. Not before Sunday. Sunday. Sunday was the day.
He breathed heavily and listened to Air and knew... didn't think... but knew. He had. To. Stop. Thinking. About. This.
"I like being your friend..." she had told him.
Not her. Not that. It felt like a betrayal.
He wanted some part of her to always remain his.
Something no one else could have.
But he knew that request was far too great.
He pulled the shirt that she gave back to him to his face and just sank his head into it.
"Things could be so much worse," he couldn't help but tell himself.
This was the closest to tears he'd been in years.
He wished he could lock himself in his room, play his record collection, and never leave his house again.
"it's 11:11" he realized. "make a wish."
little wonder this is never how it would be.
r: it's been a year.
m: I know.
r: it hasn't gotten any better.
m: sometimes it's better. sometimes it's not. I have good days.
r: oh.
m: did you just call to tell me something I already know, and something else that is only going to throw me off more?
r: I'm...sorry...
m: no, you're not.
r: I'm confused.
m: so am I, but I've yet to call you in the middle of the night to tell you.
r: this isn't how it was supposed to be.
m: nothing ever is.
silentbob She hung up the phone and shook her head and went back to her homework and she shook her head. She shook her head not out of aggravation. But out of guilt. Out of shame. Out of regret. Out of pain.
Why had she ever let this happen?
Why did things have to be so difficult?
She wondered if he was really going to be ok.
She needed to study now.
But she couldn't.
Borealis she stared at the keypad
what is intrinsic to phone calls that makes them so difficult to initiate

she was trembling, her palms were moist, her pulse racing
just a phone call
only a phone call

who would pick up? what would they say? what would SHE say??

nervously rehearsing her lines like a broadway hopeful, dialing commences
the grating beep is more noticeable today. the sound rings home through the thickness of the deathly silence.


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