The conversation started slowly, each feeling out the other, not sure of where to go next. The fates had always seemed like they were against us. Our timing could not have been worse. It’s like missing your train stop; then when you hop back on to go in the other direction, you miss the stop again. It was a never ending cycle that we couldn’t figure out.

Our paths crossed so often that we figured that Destiny was involved, but his bastard of a brother, Fate, was against us. We could never seem to walk parallel to each other. Instead, we’d cross each others’ paths, always going in a different direction or making lefts when the other would make a right. By now, our paths had taken us to a point where we needed to resolved this situation or else we would continue to torture ourselves and others around us.

She had a boyfriend now. In fact, this was her second one, after our time together had faded away. As her friend, we still talked, but I believe that deep down, in our heart of hearts we still felt that tingle that caresses your spine when we talked or saw each other, which was very rare. Maybe it would have worked out if our timing was a bit different. Maybe it would have worked if I was closer, but in the end, she still had a boyfriend.

There were no hard feelings nor any ill will because she looked like she had moved on. I was happy for her since she seemed content and was forging a new path in her life. That’s what I thought before I received that intoxicated phone call, where she tried to verbally rip me out of her life. Although she was with someone, for some reason, I still existed there in her heart and that troubled her. She was seeking some kind of closure that would set her free. The kind of closure that would set my memory free from her heart.

So this time, we talked like old friends, without the crying and the tears. There was still something there between us, but we knew that it probably would never work, considering our own personal issues and the circumstances that we were thrust into. We each had our own demons to battle and it might have worked, if the roads we took didn’t seem to stray too far apart, just like the 400 miles that separated us now.

Over the span of a few hours, we ironed out our thoughts and feelings, bringing closure to each other. We forced ourselves to accept reality and the probability that we could only be friends, nothing more, nothing less. No matter what direction our lives took or how far we were, we’d always be friends. At least, in that vein, we’d always be able to support each other through the difficulties in our lives. That was our pact.

I knew that the next time I heard from her, we’d both be at different places in our lives and different locations in time. There was no sadness or regret between the two of us any longer. Our time had passed and we had finally come to a place in the road where we could look each other in the eyes and be ok.

Saying our good-byes, I knew that I was truly ok and finally, so was she.

Part: 1, 2, 3,

She wanted to call and say hi, to hear my voice once again and then walk away. She wasn’t exactly sure why, but it was an intoxicating draw for her; this kind of personal torture and torment, my voice being so close but yet I was so far away. She wanted to get her “fix” and simply leave, but I wasn’t ready to let her go, not just yet.

You see, the torture and torment didn’t end with her, it went both ways, since I too felt the gravitational pulls of this singularity that we were both trapped in. We were unable to escape and unable to let go.

I felt the tug of my heartstrings and I didn’t want to hang up. It was quite possible that after this call, we’d never hear from each other again. Our last phone conversation didn’t go well and we had ended it with her in a fit of tears and my heart tearing in two. I didn’t want that to happen again.

This was a second chance to possibly make things right between us. To mend the tears of our relationship, which was always ill-timed. To possibly come away from this as amicable friends, if not more.

It started with a simple hello.

Part: 1, 2, 3,

I hadn’t heard from her in quite some time. There was a time not too long ago that I believed I would never hear from her again. For once, I was glad that I was wrong.

The last time we spoke, she seemed as if she was slightly intoxicated and she only had deceptively harsh words for me. Those words came through quivering lips and full of anguish. The potentially hateful things that she said didn’t cut me like she had hoped. She tried to push me away; by angering and wounding me so that I would respond with brutal rebuttals and would have given her reason to forget me forever. The thing is, she knew as well as I did, that I wasn’t so easily manipulated.

This time however, she was different. Her words were strangely timid and hesitant, as if she was afraid of something. What she was afraid of, I do not know. Was there something wrong? Did she remember that night and felt guilty about the things she said? Or was there something else I simply didn’t get.

I wasn’t sure what it was, but I would soon find out.

Part: 1, 2, 3,