Melancholy at 3am

I rolled over to the side of my bed to check my cellphone that I had so conveniently turned to airplane mode before. It had been my way of stopping myself from checking if you were online or if you had texted me again. As I turned on cellular data and opened up my messenger app, there you were – Active 9m ago. Not only did it light up my eyes also literally because of the screen glare in darkness but it gave my heart the sense of calm that my fuzzy blanket or my warm bed couldn’t give me that night. It was 3am for me. I didn’t have to worry about why you were up so late. It was only 2:30 pm for you. We have a love/hate relationship with time zones.

Your cellphone rang and as you shuffled in your seat and stared at a photo of us sitting on your desk, you were anxious about why I had called so late. You picked up instantly asked me if everything was okay. And I said, “Yes, it is now.”

“I was missing you”- I said, “But no tears today.”

You then asked me about my day and I rambled about all the things that went wrong. From friendships to food cravings, you heard all of it. You sat in your seat and pictured me telling you those things in person. You imagined how my nose crinkled above my half- hearted smile when I would say, “Meh, my day was fine. If only I could get my favorite frozen custard right now.”

But it didn’t hurt anymore. You were used to me just being a forlorn voice. A voice as distant as the evening star on a lonely day.

We shared a few moments of silence until I realized we both had nothing more to say to each other. And as I laid there in my bed like a doubting Thomas, I soon realized that I wasn’t the only one in despair. Your mornings were quieter than my nights and your tears more bitter.

I got up and I said, “I’m sorry I called again”, to which you easily said “Sleep well”.

I slept to the sound of nothingness.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/calling/

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