…and it hasn’t gone anywhere. Does that ever happen to you writers out there? It’s the curse of the unfinished project. We have good intentions, but good intentions can lead a saint on the wrong path. Anyway, thought I’d share a little sumpin, sumpin. It’s a story I began, oh…three years ago? I titled it Text Message and it could possibly have some undertones of real life experience. Hope you enjoy! (PS–It’s totally unedited.)
Rain was pouring against my windows like bullets pelting a target. So typical; of course the weather sucked when I was wallowing in self-pity. Soon the icy drops would solidify and become snow. I was glad to be home, safe and warm on such a stormy night, but longed for company. I stared at the last text message from him. “Let’s catch up SOON.” Well geez, what was that supposed to mean? I knew he was still with his girlfriend and it felt foolish to even hope that things weren’t going well between them. It was even more foolish, dare I say embarrassing, of me to think he and I still had a chance. Still, was I being a silly girl and reading into nothing, or was there some underlying message in the new and constant communication Brad and I were involved in?
One more look at the text. I’d made a fool of myself so many times in front of him; what could one more time hurt? My thumbs begin to move in a patterned response before I consciously realized what I was doing. “Sure. When/where?” was my text back. I hit send before I chickened out and laughed cynically to myself, knowing he wouldn’t answer back with specifics but instead leave me hanging, just like all the other times.
“OK. Tmrw nite 6pm @ Lulu’s???” My favorite coffee shop. Innocent enough, but why did he want to meet me? Why now? Did he have the same feelings for me as I still carried like a burden for him? What words would be exchanged over innocent cups of coffee and espresso? I couldn’t imagine they’d be anything light and hearty.
My hands started to shake slightly and my heart rate echoed in my chest like a ticking time bomb. How did I get myself into this and why was I doing it again? As memories of the past whirled in my head and made my breathing shallow, I slowly punched the O and K on my iPhone to give him my answer. Send.
I threw my phone into the couch and it vibrated. I rushed to it like a parent to a wounded child and slid the unlock button to the right. “OK” was his answer. There was a smiley face right after the K and butterflies flitted in my stomach. Oh God. There could be nothing good to come from our reunion. I threw my phone on the couch again and plopped myself into my red, comfy leather chair. My glass of Riesling found its way into my left hand and I mulled the situation over in my head while I took a few gulps.
The TV was on but muted. I guess I wanted to feel like there was a presence there without all the noise. There was nothing on Thursday nights anyway. Perhaps I could catch a rerun of America’s Next Top Model? I drew my vision up from my glass to the surrounding living room. I rose from my chair, sauntering over to the window. It was snowing.