At precisely 12:00am, G called.

Did...did I not make myself abundantly clear?

Here, I was glowing, having seen two of my favorite artists in concert (touring together!). A singer, female, and a pianist, male.

She told me I had a nice dress when I passed her by in the hallway to the bathroom.

He asked me how I was when I went to get my CD signed, and I told him I was cold because the side door was open, so he scrambled to close it.

It's amazing what a great pair of legs will do.

Then home. Rambling with James, bitching about the losers who didn't want to come. Talking about what a great concert it was.

Made a cup of ginger tea. Peeled off my wiggle dress. Ate my leftover salad roll from lunch.

Then...

Was that my phone I heard?

Vibrating in the little beaded clutch that I carried all night?

...yes.

Yes it was!

Up I got, and pulled out my purse.

Area code...I recognize that area code.

I looked it up on the internet, and there was G's name and address, blazoned on the backs of my eyeballs.

I remember, I remember. Our last conversation, a mere few months ago. He called and called until he got a hold of me.

"Hey," he said.

"What do you want?" My voice could have frozen water.

The conversation, a jumble of emotions, thick and fluid, black like molasses, leaking from my heart.

The tears, leaking down my face in a neverending river.

The conversation disintigrating into sobs.

"I didn't want this," he said, his voice smooth and low. "I didn't want this. I didn't want to make you cry."

"I have been crying," I told him, through the hiccups in my throat, "since the moment I heard your voice."

He was silent to that. I could hear the gears in his head turning.

"I gotta go," I said.

And now, again. What more is there to say?

What more is there?

It will be interesting to see if his patterns of behavior follow what he did last time: call every few days until he gets a hold of me.

What more is there to say?

.

Rosie.

PS, Why does he always seem to call after I've been thinking about him?

Before&After