So I was heading out of my apartment the other night and I got a ring on my phone. I didn’t recognize the area code, but I figured, what the hell. I’m not big on screening calls anyway. Either I:
… have no idea where my phone is,
… am asleep.
… forgot to charge it.,
I answer it.
Sure there are exceptions. The times I just stare at the digits, or hear the ring and decid, I’m doing this person a favor by not talking.
It’s that simple.
Luckily I managed to get this one in the moment.
It was my friend from Chicago and she started off the conversation by saying.
Heeeeeeeeeeey. I caught you! Is now an okay time to talk?
I agree wholeheartedly and she goes on, “I was just going through my phone book and decided to call someone I miss.”
I let out a big Awwwwwwwwww, and we traded back and forth a couple “I love you” “No I love you!” x 3. Almost, but not quite, schmoopy. And it’s so wonderful how easy it rolls off the tongue in that instance. How I don’t even hesitate or question it.
This intense pleasure of just knowing each other and the good vibes we get on the rare occasion we are together. We talk briefly somehow managing to determine what it’s all about.
Getting with friends, sharing good food and wine, and conversation. Cohabiting the energy that comes with proximity. The security that the world isn’t all shit. There just ain’t much better than it.
We resolve that we will get together before too long seeing that we’re only five hours away from each other. So much nicer than when she and her husband lived on the left coast, or the right coast.
In reflection, I think back on the conversation I had years ago with another dear friend, asking about love. And if I’d ever loved before. And how I blurted out, Lord yes. Many times. I wrote about it before, I just like to remind myself. And I still love each and every one of those people.
It’s not something that dies.
The rush I got from that simple phone call proves it.
I feel like a baton’s been passed in some way.
I need to look through my phone book.