We Don’t Talk Anymore

My phone buzzed as a text message came in. I slid my right thumb across the screen and read the message from you, “Are you okay?”

I smiled, not in a delighted way, to myself. Am I okay? I thought. Of course not. How was this even a question? I placed my phone inside my pocket, opened Spotify on my laptop, and blasted the most melodramatic song I could find in a random playlist. How am I supposed to be okay? I drowned myself in the lingering sound of music while my mind was elsewhere.

I closed my eyes, and I was back in our room. The small bedroom that we share—you, me, and our cat. I lay in bed, you beside me. I was sulking, you were annoyed with my being overreacting to everything.

“You know what is wrong with you?” You asked me, rhetorically.

I kept my silence as I knew I would not have made any sense at all, because I knew you were right all along.

“You always count the minutes that pass that we are not together,” you answered your own question. “You don’t think of the time we spend together—what about the time here at home? The time we sleep together. For you, it always has to be you and me. This were the case, it would have had been better if we did not see each other this month.”

Right, because we spend quality time while we are asleep together, I replied mentally. I did not bother raising this point because I know, it was worthless. For you, at least.

You looked at me, and you sighed. “You know what I realized? Things have changed. We haven’t been talking lately the way we used to.”

I agreed internally.

“You think I am mad when I am not; you know how I easily raise my voice. You were okay with that. You knew that. And I don’t even know if you’re mad or not because I can no longer read the tone of your voice. We haven’t been talking lately like we used to do.”

I woke up from my trance. I was back in this old classroom in the middle of the night. I smiled to myself as I agreed to what you said weeks ago—we haven’t been talking anymore the way we used to do. Perhaps it was my fault: I have been away for months, only visiting once every month. Or maybe it was yours, because you have new friends who are there with your physically and you prefer spending time with them than talking to me over the phone.

I closed my eyes as the song fades to a new one. I went back in time a few minutes before now.

“Yeah, and that’s what I told her,” I said over the booming sounds of fireworks.

“Hey, hey, hey,” you replied hurriedly, “I need to go.”

“What?” I asked, confused.

“They’re looking for me,” you explained, “it’s rather rude I just disappeared.”

“I’m going back in at eleven,” I said.

“Let’s talk later,” you replied.

“Okay,” I said, nonchalantly as I ended the call.

You spend a lot of time with them; you go out every weekend with them, and we barely even talk now, and you wonder why we no longer talk the way we used to, I thought to myself.

My phone buzzed inside my pocket. A message from you: “Hey, are you disappointed?”

I brushed it off. I tried to be mature and not let you know I really was disappointed. You complained we no longer talk the way we used to because we have not talked to one another in person for moths and that we need to catch up. Yes, I appreciate that, but when I call you, you either drop my calls because you are talking with your friends or you are too busy talking to them that you do not even notice my calls. And when we finally talked, you have to cut it short because you feel bad for leaving them so you could talk to me. And this is why we no longer talk to one another like we used to.

I sighed and type, “Let’s just talk to tomorrow when you’re no longer busy. Just let me know where you’re going and once you’re home.” I shoved my phone in pocket in frustration.

My phone buzzed as a text message came in. I slid my right thumb across the screen and read the message from you, “Are you okay?”

I smiled, not in a delighted way, to myself. Am I okay? I thought. Of course not. How was this even a question? I placed my phone inside my pocket, opened Spotify on my laptop, and blasted the most melodramatic song I could find in a random playlist. How am I supposed to be okay? I drowned myself in the lingering sound of music while my mind was elsewhere.

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