The Phone Call MAG

January 12, 2012
By Shannon Miller BRONZE, Milton, Massachusetts
Shannon Miller BRONZE, Milton, Massachusetts
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

As she leaned over her night stand to answer the phone, she glanced at the clock. Glaring back at her in bright red was the time – 2:07 a.m. Who would call at two o’clock in the morning? She answered the phone with a very tired “hello.” Her greeting was answered with another “hello” in that familiar voice. Immediately she felt the comfortable warmth that filled every part of her body each time she heard his voice. She was still partly asleep and could not read the tone of his voice. Was he all right? Did he need help? He could sense her fear and reassured her that he was fine. He had come home late from his game and was trying unsuccessfully to fall asleep. He had been thinking about her and had something he needed to say.

What could it be? she thought as she listened intently to his breathing. It seemed heavy and deliberate. She waited. Silence, though this silence was different. It was comfortable and calm. It also seemed necessary. It was definitely not the uncomfortable silence she had experienced when talking to other guys. With him she did not feel she had to fill in the spaces of dead air with a stupid joke or the self-conscious giggle that can sometimes take over. She knew that he had something he wanted to say but was nervous about saying it. She would wait until he was ready. She was content to listen to his breathing for as long as it took. She could be waiting for him to tell her that he never wanted to see her again but for some reason she felt at that moment whatever he said would somehow be fine.

She did not want to push him into saying something he did not want to so she reassuringly told him that he could tell her anything and he did not have to worry about it. He thanked her for being so patient. He finally stammered out “I … think … um – I think that … well, it’s just that I think I’m falling in love …”

All of a sudden the peacefulness she had known while listening to his breathing was being interrupted as he said “ … with you.” What he said after that was muffled by her own disbelief that he was actually saying this. She knew that their relationship had been growing stronger over the past few months. She had thought that she might love him but how was she supposed to know? Was she feeling love now or was it just that she felt she had to express a love to validate his feelings? Was she ready to admit her love? Was it love? She felt as if her thoughts had been put in slow motion. Slowly she could feel him slipping further away as his voice became increasingly distant. Is this what love does? Was it love that was pulling them apart now?

She could not hear him anymore. All that she could hear was the persistent beeping of her alarm clock and the sound of her phone telling her it was off the hook. She could feel herself coming out of her sleep slowly and hesitantly, trying to hold onto the comfort that sleep brings. She felt as if she was searching to find the warmth his voice gave her and the admission of love that voice had spoken. She was fearing the worst and hoping for the best. As she awoke, she could feel the phone under her arm. There was a knot in her stomach and a lump in her throat. He had told her he was falling in love with her. How could it have been a dream when her emotions felt so real? Now all she could feel was the uncomfortable silence of her room as she started another day of longing to know his true feelings, where their hearts would lead them and the words that would eventually be spoken originating from the feelings in their hearts.

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