To me phone calls = love
Why? I don't know and I don't know if I am the only one. I hate it. When I come home and I don't have any messages. It's one of the saddest thing about me. This semi-self doubt. But most often I think it is more boredom than low self esteem.
Lately I have only been getting calls from my credit card company. This is soooo not love for me though. They only love my money. Monday, I had 24 new phone calls from them. Only one message. I'm something like 80 days past due. Credit card hell. When they call, these are a few of my tactics to avoid discussing my past due balance:
1. I pretend I'm the sitter and say "She's not here. She won't be home until after 10pm."
2. One time I screamed, "I'm in the middle of changing a shitty diaper. F*ck off!!!" hang up.
3. Or I let Zoe answer the phone and talk three year old to them. Exasperated, they hang up. Only to call back an hour later.
4. I tell them to stop calling or I will file for bankruptcy and they won't get a f*cking dime from me. Hang up and don't answer again.
This goes from 8:00 am to 8:45 pm seven days a week. I wish I had some extra cash to pay them, but it may be another month.
But then there is Egypt.
Dr. Egypt is weirding me out. He says he's going to call, then I hear nothing from him. He's a busy busy busy guy. I know this. I've known this. On call nearly all the time and often has emergency heart surgeries at the last minute. He's on the run. They take advantage of his kindness, his experience. American doctors ignore their pagers. He says they are lazy, spoiled.
But it only takes a few minutes to phone someone. He's got a cell phone. He says he's going to call. To come over. He misses me. But then I hear nothing. My mind does overtime and imagines every terrible scenario.
... He's seeing someone else (I'm sure he's not).
... He's trying to "wean" me, because he knows I adore him and he's leaving soon.
... He's trying to "wean" himself, because I know he adores me and he's leaving soon.
... He's tired of me. More likely, he's tired of the drive and this awful traffic.
On and on this goes. Usually I hit the tai bo tape & do some kickboxing to make it stop. Must...kick...higher.
Then a day or two later he calls. When he does call, he's adorable. Sweet. Even loving. I know he's in the mood to see me. But I live about 40 minutes away. He says driving is a chore. This, well this, makes me feel like crap. It is horrible because it's sweet and magical when we are together. Like an old married couple. I adore him.
I know he loves me. He doesn't say it alot, but he's let it slip a few times. I even kidded him about it once. He says things like "I love f*cking you." "I love your body." "I love any bed that has you in it." "I love you, but I hate it that you live so far away." I told him it freaks me out when he says these things because I keep thinking he's about to say he loves me. He says everything else BUT the L bomb.
He said, "Honey, If I didn't love you, I wouldn't ache to see you." He then gave me a playful hug and one of his patented amazing kisses. This kiss made me forget who I was.
Too bad these kisses can't make me forget the damn phone thing. I can't figure it out, so I try not to. For this, I play by "The Rules." I don't call him. I can't. I keep busy with Zoe. I work. I work out. Anything. I just can't bring myself to dial.
Phone = love
I don't want to even admit that to myself.