The first text came at almost midnight on a friday night… at the end of a really stressful week in a stressful month, from a number that I didn’t recognize, didn’t have programmed into my phone, and gave no explanation like “hey, its so and so… got a new number.”
The short message said only that I am a wimp.
It didn’t actually need to say more… my heart leapt anyway. A text… from him… over a year after the last contact at all. Which was over a year since the time before that.
(Referencing an ongoing imaginary pillowfight with the wimp comment… good thing I don’t regularly have people text me to tell me that i’m a wimp)
I add the number to my list of contact numbers for him… about 6 currently, of which I have no idea if any of them work or have worked anytime recently. And before even stopping to think about it really, I send a reply.
A long pause passes…. then suddenly a few messages in a row back and forth… and then comes the call.
This time I do at least pause as it crosses my mind to wonder if I really should answer, but before I’ve decided, I’ve answered anyway.
The conversation that followed would have made anyone listening think that we were both idiots. The entire time revolved around the imaginary pillowfight (completely innocent toned)… going over the same things over and over again teasingly.
And lot of giggling.
I find myself at some points intentionally leading the battle into places where I know he’s going to have to give a long and drawn out response… just for wanting to listen to his voice.
Ad finding myself slipping right back into the same old pattern… as if not a day has passed since the last imaginary pillowfight… as if he were still my best friend in the world, and i was still spending hours nightly talking to him over the computer and phone almost every single night for about 2 years.
He makes a comment at one point about my avoiding the fight for over a decade last december, and i find myself shocked that he, being a guy, actually remembers exactly when the major fight ended life as it had been.
I’d found myself having a rough time last december before the 10 year point rolled around… making me realize there were still sore areas, as i found myself almost in tears during a sermon about the bribe preparing for her groom. but somehow, i didn’t expect him to remember.
Or maybe I just expect him to have moved on to a nice happy life and never look back.
At points I try to transition things a bit more serious, but it fails and stays pillow related. I wonder if the reason the call is tonight is that someone else is out of town visiting their mother. I know he has at least one kid, a girl who would be about 5 or 6 now, but I wonder if there are any more and what her name is. I wonder where he even lives now, what his job is since I know it’s not likely to be doing what he was back then. I wonder how some of the massive issues that broke out in the next year of his life have played out, and how he’s doing now, and if he’s ok.
I want things to be deeper… I want things to really connect… I want things to go back to the way they used to be.
Or at least my heart does. My head knows better… remembers the roller coaster much better than my heart appears to.
But the heart wins out… in a landslide… and gets a night of silliness and giggles to make it smile.
It was 3:45 am… a bit over 2 hours later… when the call dropped off abruptly and my attempt to call back went straight to voicemail. I assume phone died. I left a message teasing that he was too scared of losing the fight and ran away… and sent a text of about the same message… all the while knowing I will probably never hear an answer to either, or maybe not for another year anyway.
And the next hour is a mix of being both happy and miserable at the same time. Feeling so thrilled from getting to hear from him again, and at the same time right back where I was a decade ago on wishing for anything that he were here to be curled up next to as I attempted to fall asleep. Not even in a sexual way… in a companionship way that misses my best friend greatly.
I’d have told you the night before that I was mostly over it except for the occasional twinges of memories.
My heart likes to prove me mistaken on these matters.
And unfortunately the missing-ness changes to loneliness and lasts much longer than the giggly buzz. And my head tells the runaway heart that it knew better.
And somehow, even though I know the answer involves turning to God in the situation and making him my love above any guys…. prayer still falls flat on making me feel any better.
None of the secular solutions have fared any better over the years. Other long term relationships… having a kid barely a year after the big fight… getting my heart stolen by other guys… getting my heart broken by other guys… even the good old time heals everything should have given me some credit for a decade you’d think.
He’s one of the many people on my written list of people to pray over, which granted I only refer to when I’m lacking in inspiration… but I wonder if that’s only making things worse by keeping him more in mind.
At least I’ve got a year or more before it’s an issue again?