I used to hate the way he would call stupid nicknames like "woman" and "babe," the way he would make my stomach explode into a thousand butterflies whenever he was around and the clingyness and the constant competition of who was better at everything . He called me one night just after midnight . He told me not to hang up , I didn't , he asked me if I still loved him, I didn't. It was silent , seconds turned to minuets which turned to hours of this infinant long silence. minuets before dawn , there was no breath on the other line that I had grown accustomed to . I called his name once and then twice and heard nothing. He had asked me if I would hang up , I lied , I got tired of waiting , he had asked me if I still love him and again I had lied.