A Listening Ear

I have grown so tired recently. It’s not that the sleep is left wanting, or that the dreams are yet to end; it’s that the humdrum of everyday life is becoming ever more exhausting. I have grown so tired.

I’d reach for my phone if I could. I’d call you… whichever you would pick up. Or maybe whichever you wouldn’t. I’d sit on my bed cross-legged and I’d press the buttons to make your phone ring. I think if you answered, I’d probably hang up. So I’d pray for voicemail instead.

I’ve imagined it a few times, imagined it more recently than before, rehearsed the lines in my mind that I’d say to your voicemail. Wanna hear? Let me try remember…

“Hey,” I’d start, “don’t hang up.” I’d take a moment to compose myself; it’s very dramatic, you see. “I’ve been waiting to call for a while. I’ve missed you, essentially. And I was just wanting to talk for a while. Even if you aren’t hearing me, right now I mean, it’s still nice to know you’re somewhere on the other end. It’s nice to know that your hearing me. I think it’s sometimes because it feels like I fall on deaf ears, so knowing you’re wherever you are, knowing you’re hearing what I’m saying… It’s nice.”

I don’t know what else I’d say; never really made it beyond that. Not that I’ve made it that far in the first place, but hey, life is full of fictions. That’s what I’ve heard, anyway. And nowadays, the fictions mean more than reality. Ironic really, but it’s true. I’ve grown quite tired, you see, and the idea of a listening ear seems quite nice.

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