A phone call.

I am sitting at my desk,
staring at my computer screen
trying to figure out the word I need
to complete my essay about family
when my phone rings.

It’s your number
and I wonder
what’s going on.
this is not the usual time for you to call
(it’s 2 pm and you wouldn’t call me till it’s 6
to check why I haven’t yet
reached home).

I panic.

Anything might have happened
it might be some freaking kind of emergency
to you, her.
So I take the call
you are freaking out
your voice shaking.

“What’s wrong?” I ask slowly,
taking long breath.

“Did you know?” you’d ask me instead
and I would say “Yes.”

And then you’d start swearing,
cursing for not telling
you all this time.

You are crying
because you have just one month
You have just fell in love with her.
With her eyes
and her smile
and her voice that isn’t perfect
but she likes to sing anyway.
And the worst is you don’t know
if she feels the same.

I tell you to calm down
but tears are running down from my eyes
“Write a love letter”
I suggest and
I wait.

“I can’t believe
that I broke her heart
and now I am trying to mend
right when it’s damn too late.”
You say
before cutting off the phone.

 

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