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every night i'd be.. paranoid that she'd call. perhaps it was the reason why i stayed up so late these ..days.  it's been a month since i've last heard from her.  i must admit, as a black-humored guy, i had contemplated the possibilities of why. and as a sad-case, i would imagine answering "oh, i had hoped you forgot about me."  perhaps even asking "who is this?", as if i was significant enough of a memory to be a bad one. as if it was better that she never called this number again.

_Ring Ring.

"..." i paused,  and asked "Hello?"
usually it's some native speaking adult. the pause was to sound like i wasn't waiting for someone, and for the following courteous "ah kay, one second" to not sound forced out of disappointment.

"..hi(!)"
  .. that familiar mousy voice. timid and cute. yet smilingly optimistic, as if it were in the face of imminent...disappointment.

"-sigh-"

"Why do you always sigh when -I- call?!!"

..in the second i realized my sigh of relief/realized hope had sounded like one of disappointment:

"Oh!" i over-enthusiastically responded, "it's because i'm always breathless when i hear your voice."

"Haha(ha..), very funny.."

_ and the following hour and 46minutes and 13seconds would be something like reliving that past. only this time, it's not an obsession of the heart.

i guess it was something to feed the hermit's soul. like mum's meat loaf to a starved vegetarian, or the sun's light off the moon to a vampire;

it was to feel...a happiness
you've long feared and rejected
because it caused you pain and self-criticism;

the happiness to forget.