My Captive Heart

(III) "Your Head Is Under Water I Doubt That You Can Hear Me"

     I was silly to ask because of course it was Michael.  I could authenticate his sweet voice through any telephone.  I was only thrown off because he never had that number.  Only Prince and a few close friends held possession of it and Prince was the only one who actually utilized it. 

     "Yes, it's me," Michael said with a hint of cheer in his tone.  "How are you doing?"

     Last time we talked, the call went so sour so fast.  And I wasn't prepared to talk about it.  I was still recovering from some of the embarrassment it dawned on me.  "Um, a little shocked and confused right now," I said smiling to myself.  "How did you get this number?"

     "You called me from this number when we talked last time.  It showed up on my phone bill."

     "Oh.  Right.  So what's up?"

     "I wanted to apologize.  For the way I acted when you called me last time. I'm really sorry.  I was in a terrible mood that night."

     "Oh.  That's okay..."  My words trailed off into empty space.  I had nothing to say to him.  But as I sat there, twisting the phone cord, it was as if all the feelings I had for him, the ones I thought I killed and buried, just were all coming back to life with each word he brought to my ear.

     "No.  It's not.  I had gotten into a really big fight with Nya just a few hours earlier and I should've never treated you that way.  Especially when you were trying to simply apologize."

     "Michael, really.  It's fine."  I was trying to do more than apologize.  I was trying to rekindle what we had.  So if he wanted me to finish what I was trying to say back then, it wasn't going to happen.  "I just needed closure.  And to know that you didn't hate me."

     "Of course I don't hate you.  I can never hate you, Isabella.  Never."

     "Okay."

     There was a painful silence that came over us.  I had nothing to say.  And I guess he didn't either.  But at the same time, no one wanted to hang up.

     We literally sat there breathing for a good minute or two.  Every time I thought of something to say, I could never get it out.  I wasn't sure if I should've been casual or if he only wanted to hear me say 'let's start over.'

     "Are you really okay?" he finally asked.

     I didn't understand the depth of his question.  "What do you mean?"

    "At this point, I just don't want you to hate me."

     "I don't.  It hurt," I confessed.  "But I guess I deserved it."

     "I miss you so much," he whispered.

     And his words almost made me cry.  Because for a moment, I was taken back in time.  When we were worlds apart and could only spend our nights together through the phone. 

     Then I felt bad because I missed him too.  "Now I know what you mean when you said it was like peeling a scab."

     He laughed.  "I'm sorry."

     "It's cool."

     "It's not. I just wish we could turn back time."

     "Me too."

     "Really?"

     I laughed.  "Of course."

     "So you wouldn't have listened to your friend?"

     "God, no.  Honestly, it was one of the biggest mistakes of my life.  I really mean that.  And I hate what I did to us.  But..."  My heart was so full with longing emotions, it was literally spilling out of my mouth.  I had to stop myself.  "It won't be the same."