Three Years

I stood in my closet. Just stood there. Holding my phone. Completely and utterly paralyzed.

I'd just called a friend and he hadn't answered. So, when I saw an incoming call on my phone, I figured it was him. Almost answered without looking.

Instead, it was her. A woman I hadn't seen in over a year. In fact, the last text I received from her was a link to a news article - and that was three months ago. She hadn't responded to my brief reply.

Now, she was calling me. Seeking to talk to me on the phone. Calling meant she was desperately lonely or in some sort of crisis. I suppose it could mean she was missing me - my voice, our connection, the words between us always coming so easily.

Still, I had no idea what to do. The history between us was and is marked with intensity. Very high highs and some wild lows. And, well, there's a reason you don't see or talk with someone for more than a year.

Admittedly, I'd been thinking of her a lot. Taking moments on my long walks to think of our early days. To think of the first texts, the exchange of pictures, the first time I saw her walk into the coffee shop.

I liked (very much) the way we could just "be" together. The way she expected nothing from me. She just wanted me.

So, I knew her call was just that. Just her mind on me. Her desire to hear my voice. Quite likely her expression of a want to see me.

I wanted to hear her voice - to see her. But, well, I'm still doing work. I still have more to do. Yes, I'd wished on a star to see her again - but, not so soon. I'm close. So close. But, is there ever a perfect time? No, no there is not. Still, as I stood there, looking at her name on my phone, I knew it was not that day.

The call was followed by a brief text: "Hey, what are you up to?"

Well, I'm up to wondering why you called after all this time. I'm up to thinking about how I want to see you. I'm up to imagining the beauty of your voice in my ear again.

For whatever reason, the person she wanted to talk to/hear from at that moment was me.

I didn't answer the phone. Didn't reply to the text for two days. Even then, I only sent a brief reply followed by: "Hope you've been well."

I don't really know what else to do. Not now.

As I thought about it - as I looked back on my phone - on the date and time of the call, I realized it had been three years. Three years exactly since our last kiss. The way she looked up at me - eager and hungry for my touch and taste. The way she'd been so absorbed in me that she left her phone in my car. The way she hugged me tightly when I walked the phone back to her.

One night later, our romantic involvement would end - yes, we'd encounter each other as friends again - but, that night was the last time we'd kiss.

I looked again at the phone. Though I can't be 100% sure, the time is very close to the time I dropped her off at her apartment three years ago. It's quite possible she was calling me EXACTLY three years to the minute from the last time she'd kissed me.

I don't know what will happen next.

My mind tells me I'll see her again. Maybe sooner than I think. I'm ready for her - well, almost.

I'm ready to just "be" with someone who wants nothing more.