I’ve never wanted the phone to not ring as much as I do right now. I’m concentrating all of my block-the-airwaves energy toward that annoying piece of metal and plastic on my kitchen table, willing it to remain silent. Lulling it into a coma. I could just turn it off, but then I risk the dreaded voicemail message and subsequent responsibility of returning the phone call. Which I do not want to do.
Maybe I should call someone. Anyone but him. And then he’ll get a busy signal. A hint that I have a life outside of him. That I’m not even thinking of him. Even though, of course, the entire phone-occupying conversation will exist because of him. Because I do not want to hear his voice.~Nadine, running away, even older journal
Monday, November 10, 2008
[Don't] Call Me
Because girls are confusing.