Tonight I heard your voice on the other end. You called and spoke as though nothing had ever happened. I thought it might have been the wind or clouds that broke the connection, but reality hit me like a football to the stomach as I realized it was only your emotional distance covered by shallow talk.
Golf balls really don’t live in throats, but mine does. I feel every turn of the ball inside my throat, and nothing can release it except the Great Physician who takes away the golf balls of pain. Confused. Your voice held no promise of anything. Nothing at all.
You were honestly happy. Happy to be without and happy to be where you are at… the problem is I’m hurting and you are okay. You spoke to me as though I was your sister. We both know I’m not.
You threw around words like the word “Mcdonalds” and expected me to not move cautiously. You said you didn’t want me, and now you want to stay in contact with me. What does that mean? I’m confused.
Tonight I was fine until you called. Tonight there was a sense of peace, until I heard it all. I am protecting myself. It hurts so bad. I feel like going running outside or something even though it’s dark outside just to sort through the pain. This emotional turmoil has broken me, and I’m not sure I want to break again and again anymore. Please stop playing these minds games with me, and tell me what’s going on, because I’m confused.
Why do I feel like I know what the answer is to where we will be in one year…. in just in one phone call.