Anatomy of a Phone Call.

"Hey."
"Hey back to you. (2s) Is something wrong? It's 1 in the morning."
"No... (0.5) no! Nothing's wrong. (0.3) Umm."

Yes there is. Something's wrong with me. Something's wrong with us. But I don't know how to explain it, and that is part of the problem too.

"Oh, right. (2) Okay then. (1.5) So... (0.8) what's up?"
"Nothing much.. (1.2) Just can't seem to sleep."

I don't know. I can't sleep. I want to hear the sound of your voice, but I am afraid to tell you that too. What's happened to us?

"Oh. (1.8) So you.. (0.5) you want to talk?"
"Sorry.. (1.8) It's okay. (0.8) It's late and you have work tomorrow."

I want to talk. I want to talk to you so much. But I don't think I can anymore. What happened to the days when we used to talk for the sake of hearing each others' voices? We'd talk about anything just to keep each other on the line. Must there now be something up before we call each other? When did our first reaction to late night calls become to assume something was wrong instead of that initial heady delight of yet more time together, airtime, anytime?

"Yeah. (0.4) Sorry babe, I had a really long day today."
"Yeah. (0.1) No, don't worry about it, I'll see you tomorrow for dinner yeah?"

I don't know when we became so apologetic to each other. So polite to each other. Like we've become afraid of offending each other, but we're afraid of admitting that we're afraid too. When did a love that seemed so strong become so fragile? Why can't we discuss our fears honestly any longer, when did all this fear about us creep in? Maybe if I figure out when and why and how it's happened we can turn back the clock. Maybe tomorrow can be the distant past.

"Mmm. (0.5) Of course you will. (2.4) Good night dear."
"...(1.2) Yeah. (1.7) Good night."

And sweet dreams. I don't know what's wrong, I don't know what's happening, what's happened to us. Tomorrow is going to be incrementally worse than today and I don't think I will be able to call you again tomorrow night. How is it possible that I've never felt more lonely than when I was on the phone with you? Why can't I seem to share what's going on with me here, now, when we used to share all our hopes and dreams, and fears too? I don't know what will happen tomorrow, but I know it's not going to get any better. What happened to all the tomorrows we were going to spend, to the life we were going to take on together? What happened to the future we've forgotten?



*The numbers in brackets () are, in numbers of seconds, an attempt to capture silence as text.