When Will You, Make My Phone Ring....?

Remember when you were younger, and you met someone, and you chatted, and you laughed, and maybe you danced?

If you were lucky, you had a pen and a piece of paper, or at best your hand, or his hand. Home telephone numbers were exchanged; and you parted.

Then the wait began.

For the first 16 hours it was okay; for at least 8 of them you were sleeping. For the next 8, you might be working, but when you came home; then the pain started.

Staring at it? Doesn't work.

Clenching your buttocks? Doesn't work.

Praying? Even in these dire times of stress, that didn't work.

Then the phone would ring. You pick up; you breath the number.

And someone asks for someone else.

And back to the waiting; and wishing.

I thought I was past this crap.

Apparently not.