When you miss me, just call.
Why do we overcomplicate things? Take our lives and twist them in circles? Make our emotions messy and muddled and misconstrued until we aren’t even sure what we’re feeling anymore?
Pick up. Dial. Pause. Speak. It’s really just that simple.
When you come across a photograph of me on your Facebook, stuffed in between all those newsfeed and daily memes. When you see my handwriting on card and gift I sent you. When you see the way my pictures of the sunset gleaming off my wine glass. When you take that selfie to send to a new girl you met. When you say those words you pet named me with. When you smile after seeing one of those doggy pictures I sent.
When you remember those 45 seconds air time on your lips, I hope you remember me.
I hope that ache cuts deep, I hope that loneliness sets in, and I hope, most of all, that you reach for me. Across all the skies and galaxies we stay beneath, across wind and weather and static phone lines. Across cities and states and different dreams, I hope you reach for me.
Because no matter the time or distance, I’ll always love the sound of your voice.
There is a world of difference between us. Words that were said, and bitten back. Laughter that was shared, and stifled. Thoughts that were expressed, and held hostage in our brains. We are now two souls, living independently of one another, chasing our callings, finding our way. But that will never mean you don’t matter to me.
Regardless of where we are right now, your name will still taste like strawberry and first kisses. Like naïveté and stubbornness. Bittersweet. I hope you know I’ll answer whenever it is that you call. ‘Love’ has a funny way of tying hearts together, and I always knew we’d be connected, even if our original feelings are no longer there. We always will be.
So I hope you call when you think of me. When the world has done you, when you long day finishes and you remember the girl who sleeps at 4AM, whenever you text or breathe deep you think of the ’45 seconds of your time’ phrase I use, whenever you think of all I said and you said I’m sweet and strong in return. I hope you push away the fear and muster up the courage. I hope your heart pounds and your hands sweat as you hold your phone in your palms and hit dial.
I hope you think of hanging up a million times, but you don’t. And I hope my ‘hello,’ is just what you want to hear.
Timid. Eager. Confused. Calm. To your Dial. Pause. Speak.
And I hope our voices fall into rhythm, thousands of words and stories to share. Across oceans and rivers, towns and memories, and years passed between us—I hope that phone call fills the gap.