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Just between us

*Fiction:

You're the only one I want to call. Because I love you.

In this fucked up, dysfunctional, empty, phone-swamped world, where no one has the decency to pick up their phones anymore, you will pick up. And your "Heyyy" will be genuine. Really genuine. Not the "I don't really want to talk to you, but what the heck, at least I can be polite and pretend" genuine. You really will be glad I called. That 'I' called. And when I do, you will pick up.

That's why I can talk to you.

With the others, it feels like a ruthless, "are we done yet?" act. I can feel their impatience through the line. Their boredom. Their absolute lack of interest or concern. It isn't important that I rarely call. That my actually making the effort to scroll through my contacts to hit their number, a gesture that takes almost no effort in the physical world, but costs oh-so-much to the mind and the soul... that effort is an irritation to the others.

They're not saying it, but they are screaming "I don't want to talk to you. I am busy. Doing nothing. But I am BUSY. So hurry up, spit out what you have to and let's end this."

When I hear your voice, I will relax.

Usually, my body ignores my mind when it commands, cajoles and then begs it to ease up, "for the love of GOD!" But your voice... oh! god, your voice. A melange of kindness, concern, softness and steel. My body cannot resist, because my mind has reached the comfort of home at long last. It is a pause from the relentless edge of night. 

It will be my highest form of meditation.

When I call, I know what I want to tell you. Force of habit. But you will guide me down so many myriad pathways with your questions and observations. Your pauses and silences. Your patience at my blathering... your infinite patience.

When I call you, the reason will become insignificant. Time will become insignificant.

When I make you laugh, my heart will do the impossible. Stop and speed up simultaneously. 

And I could listen to you forever, but you will gently tell me to get back to work.

For an instant, I will be scared that you're bored. For that one heartbeat, I will hate with all the pent up fury of hell, that you said it.

I will never ever let you see the relief I feel when you tell me to call you the next day.

I will never say it, but you will know. That I need to call you like I need to breathe.

When I call you and hear the genuine "Heyyyy", I will begin to live. Even if it just as long as you don't hang up.

Because I love you.

That's why you are the only one I will not call. 

Song for the moment: Star-crossed lovers - Duke Ellington   

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