Ring

You hated that I would leave my phone on silent. You called that night like you did every night, but I did not answer, I was tired. You’d had two classes and had probably just woke from a nap, I’d had four classes plus three meetings in between, I had just stepped foot in my front door ready to make that evenings meal. Your smile flashed on my phone, I let it ring. You probably wanted me to talk to you while you went to pick up a friend or drive down some dark road. You hated when I let it ring. You’d leave a voice mail, I knew exactly what it would say. I just need to hear your voice. It is what they always said, but I would never get more than a sentence in.

So I called when I knew you could not answer and left my own voicemail. You hated voicemails. You hated that I could only talk between 6 P.M. and 11 P.M.. Because I had to sleep. You hated that I had to sleep.  You hated the three thousand miles in between our bodies, I was in L.A.  You hated that I could not move to Pennsylvania. You hated that I did not text you back 24/7. You hated so many things. You hated the color of my hair, I think it was green that autumn. You hated my low cut dress and the high heels I wore that birthday. You hated that I loved a drink or two on my birthday. You hated when my smiles were not for you. You hated the rain. You hated that I smoked. You hated that I was happy living my life. You hated that I had my own dreams. You hated that you loved me. You hated everything about it. You hated when I let it ring.