We talked last night. We talked about the weather, how cold it is, how hard it can be to stay warm. We talked about his career, the studio recording, their plans, the contacts they've made. We talked about my career, my classes, the lecture I want to give, and how hard it has been to keep up with all the things I need to do. We talked about the double edge of being so busy--good signs for our careers, hard to keep up with our personal lives. We agreed that we could use some down time.
What we didn't talk about was missing each other. We didn't talk about seeing each other sometime soon. We didn't talk about our hearts and we didn't talk about love.
I had friends waiting for me upstairs; I had to go. I said how nice it was to catch up and that I was glad he was doing so well. He said the same. We hung up.
I wanted to call him back and open the floodgates of my heart and tell him that I miss him, tell him that I still love him, tell him how angry I am that we can't be together, tell him how left out I feel, tell him that I'm scared of the changes I hear in his voice, tell him that despite all the advances in my career I am terribly lonely and kind of depressed, tell him that I want to feel his body against mine, tell him that I want his eyes looking into mine, tell him that I'd come out to be with him, if he wanted, oh, didn't he want it, doesn't he want me?