This week, my chosen writing prompt from Mama Kat’s workshop is: 3.) Describe a phone call you won’t forget.
There are only a handful of phone moments that really rank in my forever memory savings account. One of those would be the call where i found out my grandmother passed away, and another would be two days later when my mom died. Those aren’t great calls though, and I want to write about something great…
I had a boyfriend once who could honestly be summed up into one giant phone call I’ll never forget. Our relationship was long distance and the bulk of that was over the phone. Every call held moments bigger than so many of my days, before him. Deep, theological conversations; political rants and considerations; secrets; dreams and wishes… You name it, good or bad, and it resided within the miles of wires which stretched between us. From “hello” to “goodbye” I held magic within my fingers and I grasped it, willing it to last forever, though it never did…
Please allow a small sidenote here: his voice was the sort of voice that could make a girl’s heart, (or at least my heart) dip in that way that a deep drop in a road might make one’s belly. His “hey” whenever I’d answer, drawn out and sexy, would open up the cage of butterflies within me and they’d flutter and fly for however many hours we’d talk. His voice and the things (most, anyway) that came out of his mouth were my addiction. I could barely make it through the day, waiting for his call.
This one particular night, he called later than normal. I wasn’t feeling well and had just had a particularly horrible day at work. I sipped hot tea for the first hour that I listened to his boyish laugh as he explained his day. He had a thing for chuck norris, whom I can’t stand, and I listened to his little CN anecdotes as well as his perception of the most recent rerun of Walker, Texas Ranger. He listened to my scratchy voice cry about my day, about my sore throat and about how tired I was. He never judged my whining. Instead he soothed, and then he softly spoke of dreams and our future together, of how incredibly much he loved me and why…
And my eyes grew heavy…
For the first time in days I felt warm and comfortable, and yet without me speaking a word of that- he sensed it.
“Sleep with me.” Gentle, quiet words came.
I wish I could. I wish you were here. That you could just hold me. I miss you.
“I may not be there, but I’m here- right now- to the best of my ability. Sleep with me. I’ll hold you this way. I won’t hang up, I won’t let you go.”
The one time I woke up, hours later, he was still on the line and breathing sweetly…
I had a boyfriend once who could honestly be summed up into one giant phone call I’ll never forget. Our relationship was long distance and the bulk of that was over the phone. Every call held moments bigger than so many of my days, before him. Deep, theological conversations; political rants and considerations; secrets; dreams and wishes… You name it, good or bad, and it resided within the miles of wires which stretched between us. From “hello” to “goodbye” I held magic within my fingers and I grasped it, willing it to last forever, though it never did…
Please allow a small sidenote here: his voice was the sort of voice that could make a girl’s heart, (or at least my heart) dip in that way that a deep drop in a road might make one’s belly. His “hey” whenever I’d answer, drawn out and sexy, would open up the cage of butterflies within me and they’d flutter and fly for however many hours we’d talk. His voice and the things (most, anyway) that came out of his mouth were my addiction. I could barely make it through the day, waiting for his call.
This one particular night, he called later than normal. I wasn’t feeling well and had just had a particularly horrible day at work. I sipped hot tea for the first hour that I listened to his boyish laugh as he explained his day. He had a thing for chuck norris, whom I can’t stand, and I listened to his little CN anecdotes as well as his perception of the most recent rerun of Walker, Texas Ranger. He listened to my scratchy voice cry about my day, about my sore throat and about how tired I was. He never judged my whining. Instead he soothed, and then he softly spoke of dreams and our future together, of how incredibly much he loved me and why…
And my eyes grew heavy…
For the first time in days I felt warm and comfortable, and yet without me speaking a word of that- he sensed it.
“Sleep with me.” Gentle, quiet words came.
I wish I could. I wish you were here. That you could just hold me. I miss you.
“I may not be there, but I’m here- right now- to the best of my ability. Sleep with me. I’ll hold you this way. I won’t hang up, I won’t let you go.”
The one time I woke up, hours later, he was still on the line and breathing sweetly…
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