to the other boy

I spoke to John yesterday - not on purpose of course.  He called work, and I was the only sucker around to answer the phone.

"Hello StrangeBird, my name is John - I used to work there, I'm not sure if you remember me..."
(yes, the conversation really started like this)
(what, like I send intense love letters to all my previous co-workers, and then forget who they are?!)
(fuckwit)
Blah-blah and pleasantries followed, and then when he met his quota of appropriate interest shown, he got down to business and revealed what he wanted.

Of all the days in a month, of all the minutes, seconds, hours contained within a single work day, he had to call at precisely that moment.  As I was talking to him, I was aware it was awkward, but it wasn't until a few minutes after I put down the phone, that unease rippled through my gut.

Of course, he doesn't have the power he once had over me.  And it's only now, with the benefit of distance and time that I can see the cracks in his presentation, and the massive voids of clarity that once impeded my view of the world with him in it.  But, he's still the first boy who ever really broke my heart. And that warrants a slight pause I suppose.

Hearing his voice, and the suggestion that I might have removed him from my memory, sort of made me wish that I had; that I could have.  It made me want to change - transform like caterpillar to butterfly, and fly away - forgetting what things were like, before I had my wings.

That night, I pondered the experience before pushing it to outskirts of my mind, where it belongs. And it made me think of the 'other' boy I'd met recently. The wonderful conversationalist, and part-time yogi who found me on the dating website those weeks ago. I still haven't heard from him.

I know I should forget him.  But, there's a small part of me who holds onto a speck of hope that he will contact again, when he is ready.  And, if we were talking, I might tell him about what happened yesterday. I might tell him I write these posts to him.

I want to hear from you RiverBoy, so incredibly much.  I don't know if you'll ever be in the mood to listen to me again, but maybe I'll keep the conversation going anyway. Just until you tell me to shut up.