An Excuse

Hello?
Oh… How are you?
Yeah, sorry I haven’t called for a while…
Yeah, well… I umm ran out of things to say… to you
You see, I don’t feel the same, well…
Remember how you said you felt an electrical charge when we met?
No.
Well, I like you… but I…
Ok.
Yeah.
Goodbye.

After that there was time to rewrite it. There was time to reconstruct.

Six o’clock on a Thursday night and I know it’s you. I push myself to tell you directly. Your voice is soft and expecting. Unsure if I’ll pour love or rejection onto your fire. I hear your voice and I stumble unsure of what to say... just hoping the whole thing will just go away and let me off the hook easily. My mouth babbles earnest confessions and all the while I feel terribly guilty for not feeling the same as you. “Goodbye.” It ends. You hang up and the glaring lights shut off. I sit back on my bed and feel relieved in a selfish sort of way. In the background the Bright Eyes sing, “love’s an excuse to get hurt, and to hurt. Do you like to hurt?” I chuckle to myself and forgive everyone.