If I Don't Answer

In a strange way, everyone is at our fingertips.

Even if they aren't really here.

I mean physical presence.

Here. Beside me.

But, technology allows us to be close,

at all times.

The familiar buzz or ding of a notification

signifies someone reaching out.

But you're not really here.

***

I've never understood the game.

This contrived notion that the time elapsed from

a response or a message

glanced at and left behind

can be an affront,

a personal attack.

I've never understood the desire to spend time

"together" over text

rather than in the company of the people in the room.

***

So, what happens if I answer?

What do you think of me,

my distant friend?

***

Can you tell, by my frank words,

typed carefully with slow thumbs,

exactly what I feel?

Can you deduce what I am thinking,

sitting miles away,

without hearing the sound of my voice?

Do you believe what I tell you,

though you cannot see my face,

or do you wonder if I lie through my teeth?

***

And what do you think when I don't answer?

The replies popping up days

or weeks

later.

Always accompanied by an apology, an explanation,

a reason for my absolutely unacceptable behaviour.

Make no mistake, I feel the sting of guilt

like a phone buzzing inside my gut.

I wonder if you think I don't care

and I beg for your patience.

It was never about you.

***

I don't answer when I have nothing to say.

I don't answer when stress sits heavy

as a brick on my chest.

I don't answer when I know I should,

but I've forgotten,

something distracted me.

I don't answer when I would like to feign the day's productivity.

I don't answer when I am legitimately, unequivocally,

insanely, crazy busy.

I don't answer when I am low,

it happens more often than you know.

I don't answer because I don't want to.

***

You might know this if you weren't so far away,

instead of right at my fingertips.

But, the thing is,

you're not here.

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