You with Your Voice

I see you once a year.

We talk

maybe once a month.

We're friends.

I can be an absolute bitch and you don't care.

I don't care that you are a bit of a dick.

We match.

Remember, when you helped me break up with my boyfriend a year ago?

I tried on my own and failed. Miserably. I remember, I called you. I was terrified.

You said,

"Just breath. Call him back. See him in person. Say the hardest thing first. Be honest and say you're ending it. If he wants an explanation, give it to him. But don't try and dip you're toe in the water because you have to jump right in or you'll back out of it."

I called him back. I broke his heart and as the rain poured down and the tears came down his face, I felt relieved.

I called you back, exhilarated. I said I had done it.

You said, "good, because now if you're ever in my neck of the woods, I can have you to myself."

And I wanted to slap you for it. And I wanted to giggle and I wanted to laugh and dance and hug myself.

You're taller than me by just an inch but you don't mind if I wear heels. You said it's nice to look a woman in the eye and a powerful woman is something to be respected, not feared.

You have bright green eyes, a constant five o' clock shadow and silver flecked hair. You're only a year older than me but you look about ten years older.

Then you open your mouth and speak. Although the words are articulate and well placed, the voice is husky and boyish.

You seem young but precocious.

I remember meeting you. I couldn't remember your name but you so clearly remembered mine. You tackled me in the snow. I was speechless. Not because you blew me away by your looks or charm, but because I couldn't place you. At all.

You grew on me though. Persistence. It's a virtue. It took you over a year to gain my respect. You have it now. Whole-heartedly. You've grown up a lot though. The past few years haven't been easy on you.

You still make me furious sometimes. There was awhile when you would call me to flirt with me so that you felt wanted. I'm more than an ego boost. We dealt with it though and you realized that it was a shitty reason to call someone. That said, you make me feel wanted too.

Neither of us are ready for real relationships. We live far from each other and our schedules aren't conducive to visits. Maybe a little long-distance flirtation isn't a bad thing.

Last time I saw you, I brought a friend. You were dating someone at the time and I didn't want to find myself kissing you and getting in the middle of something. I could feel you staring at me though. You undressed me with your eyes and every time you came near me, I could feel your sharp intake of breath as you tried to stealthily smell my hair. You weren't very sneaky.

And yet, being wanted with those eyes of yours makes me melt.

Someday, we'll go on two dates that won't be a year apart.