I answered the call

I answered your call. I answered your damn call.

I told myself I was done and I said I wouldn’t do it again. But too many whiskeys and not enough restraint, I answered the damn call.

You’ve become more brazen. You don’t just call when you’re alone or headed home. You’re with friends and you make sure they know. You make sure they know how you say you feel. Then excuse yourself to continue the conversation.

I liked it better when it was secret. I liked when they thought you still didn’t call. I guess I could pretend you had let go then and they were just slips.

It’s no longer just calls, you FaceTime. Showing me off to your friends, tell them about my life. Tell them you’re going to visit me and tell them they’ll meet me. Really? Even in my whiskey state of mind, I knew it wasn’t right.

I thought it was done, you’d gone three weeks without picking up the phone and dialing my number. I thought I would resist much easier, but I answered the call.