you tried calling.

You’d called.

I got a text message saying that someone with your number had tried to get hold of me. You’d left a voicemail.

You’d called.

That same text message didn’t tell me what you’d said, how’d you said it. It didn’t tell me what I’d feel when hearing your voice, what I’d think upon listening to your thoughts. It didn’t warn me that I’d cry afterwards.

You’d called.

But even though I missed your call doesn’t mean I didn’t know. I’d stared at the cell phone screen, lighting up and vibrating with every ring. I’d kept on staring as the screen fell silent for the last time. And I was still staring at it when a new text message came in, telling me what I already knew.

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~ by translating for peas on August 30, 2011.

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