After months of chatting online and through emails I finally got the nerve to call him. He had given me his phone number weeks ago, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear his voice. I was not sure I wanted him to be real.
We set up a time for me to call him. He was at a party with others. And ironically so was I. I stepped outside to call him and was a little disturbed. We had planned this. My heart was racing with excitement and with fear. The phone rang and … you guessed it. I went straight to voice mail. I didn’t really know how to feel. I should have been angry, but I wasn’t. I should have been upset, but I wasn’t. I was actually a little relieved, I think. I went back to my party and had a good time.
That night I was checking my email and there was an apology email from him. “Oh Jackie (since he is Jack I will call myself Jackie). I am so sorry. When you called I was so excited that I dropped my phone and it shattered. I am so clumsy.” Really? Oddly enough I believed him. Even more odd is that I think he was telling the truth. “I could not wait to get home and email you so that you would know what happened. I am so sorry. I will get a new phone tomorrow and we will talk. I love you. I need to hear your voice.”
I slept well that night. I was satisfied. Why am I so damned easily satisfied?