Saturday, December 15, 2007

The Phone Call

What fear do I excrete
From my heart
When I go over to that phone over there
And dial this old number
That I’ve found in an old diary?
A number which I forgot that I had
A number that might again put me in contact with you
Why do I feel this clamped in anxiety
By just thinking of making this phone call?
What am I afraid of hearing?
Am I afraid that you might be all beter
Out of the psychiatric ward
And you’re doing fine, but you’ve decided
Not to phone me up?
Or is it the fear that I’ll have to face you, talk to you?
…I push all this fear aside, and lift myself
From this chair
I don’t want to think, I’m just going to do this
And I put the plastic receiver against my ear
I feel how it immediately gets hot from the heat of my ear
I dial
It rings!
‘That’s exciting.’ I think to myself,
cause I was hoping that it would be engaged.
then I secretly start hoping no one will answer
but after the third ring some-one picks up
“Hallo”, it’s her house mate Deidre
and she’s sounding chirpy
“Hallo, it’s Sjaka.”
“Hallo, how’r u?”
“I’m fine thanks…” I stumble over a few
of my words trying to explain to her that I
just found this number and while stumbling
I try and sound confident and cheerful and I
Believe I’m succeeding
“I just wanted to know how Mariska is doing?”
“She’s fine. She sounded cheerful the last time I spoke
to her…” I think to myself it’s cool that
Deidre’s visiting her in the asylum
“…Look’s like Australia’s treating her well.”
“And she’s taking her medication so that’s
keeping her well”
I handle the rest of the conversation calmly,
She left for Australia on the 11th of Jan. and
She’s coming back on the 28th of this month
So she went back to her husband?
I say good-bye
“Send her my regards and ask her to phone me
when she gets back.”
“Good-bye, hear from you soon!” says Deidre
still as cheerful as white flowers in spring
I put down the receiver slowly
so she when back to him?
and many things flash through me
synchronicities of the last month – how that guy
from Somalia on the train spoke about Australia,
how the Murakami book had al these correlations
with things that have happende in your and my life
- and now it all makes sense, all these pieces
suddenly fit together
and over all that’s been, I reach into myself, an find
that I am happy for you
happy, if you have found happiness
and happy that I have found clarity on where u are
so that I now can go on and find my own happiness
I am also sure that you have not
Wiped everything we have shared completely away
That you have brooded over many things, including me
And that you have felt bad about these things for me
And I know that you have trouble expressing your feelings
And I might ask you, “Where you in love with me?”
And you might answer, “There is no way I can answer that question.”
I sit here, you are there in Australia
I don’t know what your thinking, what your doing,
But I’m thinking about the totally irrational, chaotically wonderful,
Electrical charge that passed through us, between us
And I regret that that mythical space
Is probably gone, forever
…But I’d like you to at least tell me!
Tell me to forget about you!!

© 2005, Sjaka S. Septembir

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