Monday, April 05, 2004

I miss you. I just keep wanting to pick up the phone and call. But I'm trying so hard to fight against that because in that moment of weakness, I'm so afraid that I'll reveal something which I shouldn't.

I know exactly how the conversation will go. Sure, we'll talk - like the good friends we are. You'll wonder why I'm calling and I'll make up some excuse about wondering how you were, especially given that there're only a couple of weeks left in your university year. I'll ask about your recent holiday, you'll ask about my work. We'll chat and maybe we'll flirt a little. Perhaps we'll talk about the upcoming Easter weekend and what Masses we're intending to go to. Then you'll say that you're late... you need to rush to a class or to meet a friend or something... and I'll say, "No prob! Go! Good luck for everything!" and just before you hang up... a tiny, quiet "I miss you" will escape from my mouth.

If I'm lucky, you won't hear it and you'll just hang up. If I'm not... you'll say, "What did you say?" and I'll say, "Hmm? Oh, nothing. Go! You're going to be late!" "Did you just say you miss me?" you'll say incredulously. Red with embarrassment and saddened by the certainty of the knowledge of how you truly feel about me, I'll deny it, saying that you must have imagined things... and that's how things will end.

Or maybe things won't turn out so brutally awful, not the way I depicted it. Maybe you'll reciprocate. "I miss you too," you'll say tenderly.

Oh, what's the use. This is going to be one of the most significant times of your life. What kind of girl would I be to dump all this on you... when you're just a few weeks away from the most important exams you'll ever take?

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