I toss and turn in my bed. Thoughts of you fill me up, confusing me and complicating things even further. We’ve been talking for over three months. I find myself saying things to you that I’d have never said to anyone else. We haven’t met and we both know that’s not going to change anytime soon. As I open up my deepest hopes and fears to you, it feels like you get it. The fact that you’re thousands of miles away doesn’t seem to matter. Nor that you belong to a completely different generation. During our long conversations, time seems to transform into something more fluid. Differences in time and space no longer seem to matter.
But tonight, this distance seems too much. You’re busy this weekend. You did let me know weeks ago that you’d be slow on text and email. But I can’t seem to stop thinking of you. I glance at the bedside clock that glows in the dark. 12.15 AM. I groan softly, waiting for daybreak, which is still several hours away. I pick up the phone and stare at it, wondering if I should text you anyway. And then, unwilling to disturb you, I put the phone away. I can’t take it any more. I drag myself off the bed and head to the living room to watch some mindless tv. For the fiftieth time tonight, I check my phone. No notifications.
I’m not sure when I doze off, but when I open my eyes, it’s still dark. I grab the phone and check the time. 4.55 AM. Looks like I managed to get a few hours of fitful, dream-filled sleep after all. My neck feels stiff. The couch is not the best place for a good night’s sleep. I head back to the bed. This time, I manage to sleep better. Perhaps my body knows it needs rest to function the rest of the day. I wake up at 6.30 when my morning alarm goes off with a shrill ring. I resign myself to one more day of silence as I head to the kitchen for coffee.
My mind wanders again. What’s this strange emotion I’m feeling? Why am I so confused? We’re friends right? That’s what we wanted. Both of us. We even discussed it and agreed that we will stay friends. We’re close in ways lovers can never be. I’ve said things to you that I’d never confess to a lover or boyfriend. I trust you with my darkest secrets and my most private insecurities. How can we be lovers? What if it ends? It will destroy both of us. I shake my head, as if to clear it of more confusing thoughts.
I jump a little, startled at the sound of the doorbell. It’s a Sunday. Who the hell is visiting at this time of the day? I head to the videophone to see a delivery guy holding a huge bouquet in hand. Yes? How can I help you? I ask. “Ms. D’Souza? I have a delivery for you.” I buzz him in and collect the bouquet, still confused about what’s going on. There’s a card in there. “I can’t talk much but these flowers will keep you company until I can.”
I feel my lips lift into a wide grin, almost involuntarily. It’s like my whole day has been transformed. And that’s when the phone rings. It’s you. Without preamble you say, “Five more hours. I’ll be back.”