Compulsion: Writing (ii)

the water fell on my face, a wave of relief. the splashing sound the water made as it streamed from the shower and hit the tiled floor filled my ears. the steam mist up the tempered glass door and i can't help it. with my index finger, i drew a smiley on the glass. amidst the fog, it looked lost. lost yet inexplicably happy. the sharp heat radiating from the water burned my skin, a good kind of pain. the kind that reminds you you're nothing close to numb yet. because numb often means dead, on the inside. then, noise from outside. faint. its tune so vaguely familiar. our song. my phone ringing.


but the comfort of the shower, its warmth stopped me in my tracks. whoever it is, they'll call back, i thought to myself. a few seconds in and the melody faded away in nothing. then as sudden as it did the first time, it began again from the top. and again. and again. and again. the music reverberated, making clear it wouldn't stop its stubbornness until i undid mine.


exasperated, i turned the shower off and reached for a towel. with water dripping from the ends of my hair, i ran out to see my phone vibrating on the top of the drawer. inching its way precariously to the edge.   the ringtone still loud and clear. wait, wait. i hit the answer button and held it up to my ears. hello? and instead of a voice, what replied my hello was a repetitive series of tones. apparently i thought wrong.


because whoever it is, they hung up and stopped calling. 

***

people try to get through to us. they scream words. they beg and plead. they lose their temper. they do everything to make us listen. but we like to think people will wait, that they will be there forever. we like not giving in to someone, so we'd always have leverage, the upper hand. we like to wait until they've done everything they can before we relent. 

we forget, that sometimes, it's too late to call back. 

they'll be long gone.