1 Missed Call

Hello, you!

I’m sorry I missed your call and you missed mine. Long time no talk!

*my mind runs rampant*

How long has it really been, I think. No time to ponder on that at the moment.

I miss you! I really, really do. My ego has not yet consumed me to the point that I, I, I am ashamed to admit that to you, vocally, over this voice messaging recorder.

*a high-hearted chuckle leaves my mouth*

When was the last time my heart stuttered like this, I think. It would have to be that night when you snuck up on me and-

I guess me and you are going to have to see how long a voicemail can be, huh?

So – where to begin when it comes to you? Where to begin?

*I clear my throat*

Take control of this situation, I think, yet lose some of it so you can be honest with this person that you have waited an eternity for.

There are so many great qualities about you, and I hope you can say the same thing about me. I hope that is why you scrolled through the Rolodex of your mind and chose me out of all the people that are stored there. You already know that there is only one person in my little black book that I keep a secret. A name that I keep close to my heart. That should be no surprise.

*I sit in my empty house and decide to cut to the chase*

What I would do for you to be lying next to me, I think. It would not be the first time I had ever made love to your ghost.

It has been a while since we last talked, no fault to either one of us, I guess. Right?

Me?

I have been fine. Sometimes, life is good. Sometimes, I know it can be better. Then, at the end of the day, I sit down and think about all the decisions that have led me to this point in time. I have done a lot of dumb things, I know. Every now and then, I start to think that I have done more stupid things than I have smart things. I just,

*a short, static pause as I think about what to say*

Be honest with yourself so you can be at peace, I think. That is the only way to heal. Honesty. With yourself first!

I just wonder where I could have been if I would have followed my heart more than head, and vice se versa when things did not pan out like I wanted them to. I have just recently been able to look at the mirror again and not turn away in apprehensive angst as my eyes look back into my eyes. A reflection of a reflection. I do not mean to carry around this disconnect, but, well, I guess I have not always been this way.

*I rub my thumb and pointer fingers together and think about what I really want to say*

You have waited how long for this moment, I think. Next destination – no hesitation.

I guess my world made me this way. I guess I let it mold me more than I should have allowed. I guess I wish I could have been stronger, like you, and not let my negative attachments affect me the way that I let them. They say ‘you do not know what you have until it’s gone’. Well, that works both ways.

*the television lights up my dark bedroom as I shuffle around on my bed*

I’d die a lifetime of deaths to have you next to me, I think. No army of darkness would stand between me and you, God willing, if I could resharpen my sword. I’d charge a fleet of ten thousand strong and slay my way back into your arms if that is what I had to do!

You want to know what I really miss? I miss being near you and only you. I miss being inside your bubble with you and listening to all of your crazy ideas and thoughts as they leave your brain and exit your lips. There was never a dull moment with you. Ever! Never ever! And if I came across too strong and did not give you enough room to breathe, it is simply because you were my oxygen tank and I needed as much of you as I could inhale so I could stay afloat for as long as I could. Well, for as long as I did.

*I locate my half empty box of cigarettes. I thumb a white stick between my lips and light it with my Zippo. The first drag is divine*

I never once had to light one of these on my own when you were around, I think. An etiquette this world will never know of or remember because people would rather suck on batteries. Speaking of sucking…

You made me feel special. I know I made you feel special in return. Together, we were literally unstoppable. We were a force to be reckoned with. We faced the world together and nothing stood in our way. An army of two. That was what me and you were.

The world trembled at the mere sight of us and our love.

*I fight back tears and take another quick drag*

Just tell me what I need to hear and I will do the same to you, I think. Maybe this is what all of this is leading to, eh? I can hope, can’t I?

When I would fall asleep on you and you would finally leave my house that night or the next day or whenever, I would not bathe or change my clothes. Stained with sweat and sex – the smell that we made when we combined with one another – nothing compared to it or aroused my senses like it. If I could bottle our liquid love, no one would ever be able to afford it. It was priceless. It made me feel wanted. Special. Complete. Whole. Together. Me and you – at the time – we were what the world needed more of.

*I ash into my tray. A couple of gray flakes fall onto my comforter. I ignore it like I have been ignoring my own self esteem – that is, until now*

I need it. I need, need, need, need, need you, now, more than ever, I think. I’m dwindling away. I’m going to change that. I am, I am, I am.

If I was an addict, which I guess I am when it comes to you, I would want to get strung out on you for weeks on end. I would buy endless amounts of you, find a cheap motel somewhere, and shoot myself up with so much of you that the outside world would melt into a sun-blinding prism. As your buzz coursed through my veins, I would strip out of my clothes and wrap up in nothing but you and throw myself at your mercy.

If I could grind you up and snort you up through my nose, down my throat, and into my brain, I would accelerate my heart threes times over normal speed just to be able to feel you. I would roll you up in JOB one point five rolling papers and smoke so much of you that it would take at least a year for my lungs to be free and clear of you.

I would fail a thousand drug tests just to have you back in my system. TM

You are my narcotic. My prescription pill. My addiction. My illegal substance. When you touch or enter me, it’s like the creeping effects of a drug washing over me and touching the innermost parts of my body and soul.

*memories of you make me smile as I take my next, slow burning drag*

Why is it that I want to forget so many things about this world, except for you, I think. With you, I want to remember every good and bad thing, mix it together, and let is slowly crawl down my throat like cold molasses or a dry peanut butter sandwich.

I cannot remember a single time that you made me cry, on purpose. Of course, every goodbye was more bitter than it was ever sweet, yet, when two hearts are connected like ours were, no goodbye was going to be laced with sugar.

And, for some reason, and I would say strange reason but nothing about it is strange to me or ever will be, it’s like I see you everywhere I go. It’s almost like parallels from our past present future want to blend into my current reality of now and again. I guess that’s why your call has taken me off guard, and, well, I guess mine might be having the same effect.

*a commercial flashes across my television screen. It’s advertising a perfume and, of course, there is a couple seducing one another. It reminds me of the time when…*

Why is it that I cannot control my thoughts when it comes to you, I think. So many things are your fault, and I guess that is okay. I guess…

You remember that one time for my birthday when you snuck into my house and surprised me in the shower and…

*I pause. The cigarette’s cherry glows bright in my dark room*

Do not be the person that you used to know, I think. But if I do not remain to be a tickled mystery, then you might not want to try to continue to figure me out after all this time. Let’s turn the tables against me, like always, because that is where I want to be with you. Underneath the table!

…well, I guess you already know how that story ended. You are the one who planned everything like you did. All your tactics. Your calculations. Your reasonable suspicion. Your methods. The way you freestyled life and, basically, everything else in it. Your actions. Your words. The way you set the mood. The background. The plot. The way you engaged the main protagonist – me. The way you slipped in and made yourself the protagonist and turned me into the antagonist against you. On you. Phew! Geez!

*I smile. I’m almost certain that you can feel it through my voice*

Our story never ends, I think. I cannot let it. Not yet, at least.

I would tell you to be ashamed for doing the things that you did to me but, well, I guess there’s nothing to be ashamed of when I got exactly what I wanted. I know you can say the same thing about the way I made you feel. I gave you the best of me, and you know it. I guess that is why I know I cross your mind from time to time. You already know you cross my mind.

Can’t you?

If not, then you are a fool. A beautiful fool at that.

*I take another short breath drag and realize I’m midway through my cigarette*

Has it been that long already, I think. When does a voice or text message become too long? How long have I been holding this phone?

So, I guess this is that and that is this. I just need you to know how special you are and how I look forward to talking with you in the near future, again, someday! Hopefully? Maybe? When you decide the time is right because, well, I’m open to whatever is happening here. Whatever you are offering. Whatever I can bring to the table. After being with you, I knew I would never be the same and that nobody would ever compare to you so, well, I haven’t even tried to fill that void. I’ve just been…

*the tears return. I chase them away by talking to an invisible you and getting some weight off my shoulders*

I do miss you, I think. Do you miss me as much as I miss you?

…enjoying my own company and figuring out more things about myself and finding out how to love myself more so I can love others better than I used to. You would be proud of the person that I have grown into, and, despite our minor hiccups, you need to know how much you aided in making me the best person that you could when I was with you.

There were so many things I needed to learn on my own so I could learn them the right way and be able to share them when the moment was right. I’m a better person for it. I’m a better person having had you in my life. You should be able to say the same thing about me. Well, hopefully you can. Maybe that is why this is happening like it is now. Because we are connected for a lifetime. Because our souls have met, mated, and are branded onto one another’s until this life is over.

*I snuff my cigarette out prematurely – something that happened to our love but never to our attraction. This scene is not precisely how I imagined it*

My heart begins to beat like it used to, I think. I start to feel alive once again, and it’s all because of your missed call. A notification to let me know that some kind of love still exists.

I wish I could pick up the phone, much less have the courage to do so, and leave this message that I have been waiting to leave for some time now. The message that I have been wanting to leave for some time. There are so many things I want to say, need to say, yet, I’m scared of myself for wanting to say them. For needing to say them. So that is why I continue to stare at my phone and daydream.

*I gaze at your missed call notification and awake myself out of my momentary lull. I know I need to call you back and go through these imaginary motions but something inside me stops me from doing it*

Just slide that notification over and call them back, simple as that, I think. You brainstormed over your cigarette. All you are doing is sitting alone in your bed, watching television. Reach out so they can reach in and make you whole again.

The thing that scares me the most is the fact that I might need you more than you’ll need me and I’ll come to that realization and you will not have to say a word and I will figure it out on my own and we will have to say goodbye again and we will both say it was mutual when in reality it was nothing of the such.

*All I can do is stare at the missed call notification on my phone. Tears roll down my cheeks. My heart wants to call you immediately and break into this iceberg that has floated between us. My mind balances out the pros and cons of what we used to be and the scales are nowhere close to being tipped in a negative way. My soul yearns to be back with you, in your arms, in your presence, calm, comforting, crazingly devouring and sharing the flame that existed between us*

Just call, I think. Don’t overthink something that is meant to be as simple as sliced cheese.

What are the odds that you are lying in your bed, doing the same thing as me, at this very moment? In this universal moment of opportune manifestation, I bet you are doing this, just like me, because this is our world and everyone else is just an extra in our movie.

*I look at the clock then at my phone. I snuggle up to my pillow. I rub my knees together. The television bounces silhouettes off the naked walls. I want to be naked with you. I close my eyes and dig myself into my bed*

Just call them back. Don’t overthink it, I think. The push of three buttons gets you back to where you want to be. Need to be. Have waited so long to be. Three buttons, and your entire world can collapse back into completion. Perfection. Why are you so stubborn? Time is ticking.

I wish you would just call me back and then I would not have to go through this mental torture, even though you were the one who reached out to me first and I was incognito. How Hollywood perfect would it be if my phone rang right now and it was you and all I had to do was answer and act surprised about your call. How simple would that be, love?

How convenient would that be, my twin flame?

How perfect would that ending be?

*I lay on my back and imagine my love on top of me. In reality, all I’m doing is holding my phone above my face while staring at the ceiling. My finger slides the notification over so I can call them back. In opposite reaction, my finger slides it back over. I do this numerous times. My heart beats out of control. Tears trickle down the sides of my temples and onto my lonely pillow*

What I need is right there, plain and simple, I think. Those ten digits that could get me in so much trouble and in less than five minutes. Ten numbers standing between me and absolute euphoria.

I’m going insane thinking about you. I know you know because you knew when you called me and left a ‘missed call’. I know it was all part of your plan, your operation, your blueprint, but what am I supposed to do when –

*Ring-ring-ring* – *Ring-ring-ring* – *Ring-ring-ring*

Wait…huh…what…oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, I think. It’s them, it’s them, it’s them. What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?

My love. It is you. I bet you have a listening device that can hear my thoughts or something. You’re making me hesitate. Why are you torturing me like this?

*Ring-ring-ring* – *Ring-ring-ring* – *Ring-ring-ring*

Answer you idiot, I think.

I’m an idiot if I do not answer this.

*The phone continues to ring. I hold my thumb over the answer button. The phone vibrates. My body does the same thing. The contact picture stares at me and burns a void into my soul. I do the unthinkable. My body has begun to sweat*

Oh no! Why, why, why!

Uh oh, I think. Hmmmm!

Ehhhh, I don’t know what to do. Or maybe I do, love. Maybe I do know and now is the time to nip this little game of cat and mouse for good. So, do I answer it? Decline? Or silence it? I…just…do…not…know. Well, maybe, I do. Maybe I’ve known for a long time and have not realized it until this very moment. I guess I do. Maybe.

Maybe not.

*Ring-ring-ring* – Ring-ring-ring* – *Ring-rin – -*


Push play below for personal playlist jam : Enjoy!

Des Rocs – Used to the Darkness

I have recently started a podcast channel : Link provided

http://www.anchor.fm/vernonwrites

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In this podcast, I talk about the time I was asked to clean out a religious lady's house after her passing. From that experience, I was able to construct a writing that resonates a dark, more sinister side to Southern living.  People say "home is where the heart is", yet what happens when home does not feel like home anymore? In a land labeled as 'God's Country', what happens when you see and encounter more demons than angels? What happens when riding bicycles on a dirt road is long forgotten and is exchanged for lethargic revelations? After boxing away this spiritually devout Catholics life in numerous cardboard boxes and wrapping her life treasures in bubble wrap, what did I really gain from this experience? Was I asked to do this sacred job and carry it through with grace and fragility because no one else would have? Out of all the places this woman could have lived and call home, why did she choose a corn laced, soybean surrounding, hog farm smelling Southern backdrop? I'm constantly looking for a way out, yet she was looking and found a way in. Why? This truly cannot be the land of milk and honey. This is the land of Southern Shadows Gothic.    — This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app
  1. Southern Shadows Gothic
  2. Dear Future Self,
  3. INfatUatiON
  4. The Sounds I Know
  5. Am i An astronaut?
  6. Me Remember You
  7. CaN i CaLL yOu ToNighT?
  8. Just the Other Day
  9. The Aged and the Ageless
  10. 1 Missed Call

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