The Quiet Phone  

docdirk 47M
5418 posts
11/20/2005 10:19 pm

Last Read:
3/5/2006 9:27 pm

The Quiet Phone


For a period of roughly four years, I was involved in one of those dreaded long-distance affairs. We lived exactly 176 miles apart, covering coastal Connecticut to the Jersey Turnpike. Toss in a little NYC and I95 traffic; the commute often played out much longer than those miles could dictate.

It was a tumultuous relationship. She unceremoniously dropped me once, and after rekindling the affair, I ended up doing much the same to her at the end. It was unplanned, as nearly everything about the relationship was. How could it have been anything else? Her with 2 kids and an ex in NJ, me living my own solitary existence here.

We clicked on nearly every level - emotionally, sarcastically, critically, show-me, prove-it-to-me, don't-run-your-BS-past-me, etc. We were definitely a match, but circumstances (as they often do) would never allow for it.

When we were together, the sex rocked! No doubt. Maybe it was due to the rarity of the actual event. At best, we met up only on weekends, sometimes every other, sometimes months would pass. But whenever it happened, it was always spectacular.

But as much as I miss that physical connection, I miss something else even more.

Though we could only connect physically every so often, we spoke on the phone nearly every night. The conversations ranged from the standard "how was your day?" to the most outrageous outpouring of emotion of which a person is capable. We laughed, we cried, we made fun of, we dreamed, we regretted, we reminisced and we wondered openly about everything beneath and above the moon stars and sky. Often, we wouldn't even talk. We'd sing. We'd take turns singing a song to one-another over the phone in the dead of night. Any song we could think of. Any song we knew. New, old, classic, cult... anything. I have never experienced anything so personal, and probably never will.

She's remarried now. Our last conversation consisted of me admitting that the circumstances of our lives would never allow for us to progress beyond the spin-cycle that had been making us dizzy for those four years. And while I miss the physical connection and I miss the idea of having someone with whom I "click," I can honestly say, I miss those middle of the night calls more than anything.

Ah, Its you again, Your Angel Feathers and your Blood Stains...


kyplowboy22 61M

11/29/2005 8:40 am

I know exactly what you are talking about. Had a relationship like that this past year, distance and duty kept us apart, but we talked everyday, sometimes for hours on end, when we couldn't be together. Sometimes we would simply call one or the other and sit silently for periods of time, just feeling the closeness to one another through the phone lines...just like you would do if you were in the same room with them. Or share a tv program together just like we were with one another. And then things just fell on dead ground somehow...and she was gone. It felt like a death, hers and mine. We talked about anything and everything, telling each other the deepest secrets about ourselves that no one else on earth knows of. I have never before felt as comfortable with anyone as I did her, in 50 years of life, and that's a long time. Now she's gone and I'll never get that part of me back. She took my heart with her, my reason to even try to care about anything with her and I just feel so cold and empty now. If there is such a thing as a soul mate, or a once-in-a-lifetime love, she was mine. I'll not try to find and love another, 'cause it wouldn't be fair to the new woman. I'll go to my grave alone and in silence, still in love with my special one. I hope she finds what she is looking for, if she even knows what that is. Later.

kpb
kyplowboy22


docdirk 47M

11/29/2005 9:24 pm

Thanks KPB. It is indeed difficult to deal with the loss. Logic would dictate that the distance would make it easier to let go. But the opposite seems to be the case. When you can't even drive by the special places that you used to go, just to remember the bighter times. And, as you illustrated, those phone calls have a magic of their own. To hear her voice on the other side drift off to sleep, until all you can hear is her breathing. Makes you wonder why you even have a phone after such a thing is gone.

No advice from me. That pain in the ass "it takes time" excuse is the only thing that really holds any weight.

Ah, Its you again, Your Angel Feathers and your Blood Stains...


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