It had started off well, she recalled. Back then when the anticipation of a phone call from him caused a shiver of heated excitement to streak down her spine. She remembered how she sat by the phone, gripping it with increasing intensity as she stared at the clock. Anytime now, she recalled, as the second hand inched its way across the minute surface of the number '10' on her watch. Then her phone trilled into life within her palm, its screen winking his name through the thin glass.
She remembered having animated conversations with him, her eyes creasing at the corners with mirth as he spoke. It was entertainment to speak with him, to have him soaring joy into her life like an escaped lark. And each time he did that he caused a love, then still vehemently ignored, but decreasingly so, to leap like sparks, where she could one day deny it no more.
Then somehow things changed. She sat, hunched up, muffling her sobs against the back of her hand as she listened, still gripping the phone with the same intensity as she always did. But her words were different this time. They were harsh, and the reply she received was no less savage.
"Stop crying! I have only 40 minutes left- do you want to listen or not?"
She never heard him say that before. A sharp spurt of pain dulled the retort in her throat.
" I do." She said, as firmly as she could manage while forcing a watery grimace, her face whiter than a wedding veil.
But he'd done it. He'd shunned her tears, when he'd once opened his arms to comfort her for that very act, taking away with him an infinitesimal amount of her love. And somehow, hearing his voice break too gave her a vague sense of satisfaction that hovered swimmingly at her lips.
But it wasn't her fault. Or was it? She couldn't figure out, nor could she hide her confusion behind the short, sharp rasps of breath she struggled to take as she pressed the little red button on the screen and watched as the phone fell silent once more. Dizzy and lightheaded, she left her seat and headed for the bedroom, where she gazed into the mirror at her own reflection staring back at her through red, swollen eyes. As she did so she flipped the light switch, and with her head still swarming with his words, she collapsed on the bed, exhausted, but thinking.
Then day broke before she had even slept a wink. And a vague thought occurred to her, something she felt had been stolen from her as the night slumbered on.
She always loved him, she knew.
She remembered having animated conversations with him, her eyes creasing at the corners with mirth as he spoke. It was entertainment to speak with him, to have him soaring joy into her life like an escaped lark. And each time he did that he caused a love, then still vehemently ignored, but decreasingly so, to leap like sparks, where she could one day deny it no more.
Then somehow things changed. She sat, hunched up, muffling her sobs against the back of her hand as she listened, still gripping the phone with the same intensity as she always did. But her words were different this time. They were harsh, and the reply she received was no less savage.
"Stop crying! I have only 40 minutes left- do you want to listen or not?"
She never heard him say that before. A sharp spurt of pain dulled the retort in her throat.
" I do." She said, as firmly as she could manage while forcing a watery grimace, her face whiter than a wedding veil.
But he'd done it. He'd shunned her tears, when he'd once opened his arms to comfort her for that very act, taking away with him an infinitesimal amount of her love. And somehow, hearing his voice break too gave her a vague sense of satisfaction that hovered swimmingly at her lips.
But it wasn't her fault. Or was it? She couldn't figure out, nor could she hide her confusion behind the short, sharp rasps of breath she struggled to take as she pressed the little red button on the screen and watched as the phone fell silent once more. Dizzy and lightheaded, she left her seat and headed for the bedroom, where she gazed into the mirror at her own reflection staring back at her through red, swollen eyes. As she did so she flipped the light switch, and with her head still swarming with his words, she collapsed on the bed, exhausted, but thinking.
Then day broke before she had even slept a wink. And a vague thought occurred to her, something she felt had been stolen from her as the night slumbered on.
She always loved him, she knew.
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