phone call

It’s 2:30 in the morning. Last week I did something terrible to the person I love. I can’t say why. But the guilt is eating me alive, so I call again.

[Their phone is ringing, but they know who is calling. They send it to voicemail. Maybe they’ll listen later]

This is my seventh call, so I’m just gonna leave a message. I know you don’t want to hear from me. But I can’t help it.

I’m being selfish, which is exactly what you called me the last we spoke. You were right. I can’t explain why I was that way. I just was.

These days I have been replaying our last conversation over and over again.

I remember how we sat and stared at each other for a good minute before you spoke. You cleared your throat and told me you knew what I did. In an effort to save myself, I tried to play dumb, even though I knew that would be pointless.

I still hear how you told me that what I did hurt you. My throat still hurts from how many times I said sorry. I recall saying that I know saying sorry doesn’t undo anything but regardless, I was. I don’t think I’ll forget the blank look on your face. Seeing that hurt even more than tears or yelling.

You asked me why I did it and I short-circuited. I didn’t know then and I still don’t know now. I loved and still do love you. I never wanted to hurt you.

I tried to speak, but when I opened my mouth no words came out. I knew my lack of an answer said more than any words would. My throat felt so dry and my hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

I’m not sure why I’m even calling. I can apologize over and over, and beg for forgiveness, but that wouldn't erase what happened, nor would it be beneficial.

Despite that fact, I just want to say that I am so sorry for what I did. You didn’t deserve to be hurt. You are so good and I hope you stay that way.

I do not want to continue to burden or weigh you down, so I won’t call anymore.

I love you, and I hope you live well.

Goodbye.

[The call ends, and I sit on the ground. I still feel the rock in my stomach, but I selfishly feel better]

They play the voicemail. Some tears form, their face feels hot and their throat gets choked up. They go to the bathroom to splash cold water on their face. Then, they take a deep breath, go back to the phone, and click to delete the voicemail. Now, the slate is clean and they can move forward.