Two calls


A couple days ago, I called, from your voice I was relieved to know you were doing alright. Only from our few words, I could tell you were at peace and you felt better. You did not hate the sound of my voice so much; you may have even missed it a bit. Surprisingly to me, I was not hurt or upset. I felt good, hearing your voice, knowing it worked out for you relieved me, I felt at ease, after our little call I allowed myself to forget about you more and more, your last words this time were much nicer and kinder than those of the last time. You did not hate me; therefore, I did not hate me. My call was a weakening from my part, but never have I ever felt better about being weak.

Yesterday, I called again, somewhere down there I guess I hoped for a bit more of what I had felt the last time. I did not get any. I can always tell when something is off. When you feel bad and hollow inside, I always hear the echo of that emptiness in your words. I heard it, that awful silence that covers every word you said. I heard it, just like I used to. I asked you, just like I used to. You lied, just like you used to. I left, unlike I used to.

I cared. Had I been next to you, I would have tried harder. Had you been a little less violent, I would have tried harder! I cared. I felt your pain. It hurt me, but most of all …

It hurt me to know how powerless I am, how there is not much I can do, how there is nothing you would let me do. Not anymore anyways.

Before the calls, I used to pray for you. I knew there was nothing there for me anymore but I still wished to give you so much. Praying for you allowed me to do that, even if I cannot give it to you, the peace you look for, I know someone who can. I told Him about you every single day, nothing he does not already know but I still wanted to tell someone and my friends have already had enough!

He heard about you every day. I would ask him for different things for you, every day. All those wishes you told me about or those I knew you wanted. He heard them every day. It eases the pain. It helps think that maybe, it is not as over as it seems; that maybe it is as significant as I dreamt.

The call scared me; maybe my recipe does not work. Maybe things did not work out for you; maybe there is nothing I can do. How awful a feeling!

Should I call again? Should I pray harder?


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