I take my cell in my hand and ask myself, “should I call now?” no, I cannot call, not now at least. I dare not. My hand would automatically grab my mobile and punch in his number. Somehow this has become something like naturally initiated stimulus and I had to literally drag my hand away. The left hand has assumed the role of controlling the right because it’s always the right hand that goes in search of my cell.
Suddenly I am scared of the mere thought of calling. What if he chose to ignore it? Worse still, if he decides to cut it. How humiliating for me then? Would I be able to live with that insult?
Love or infatuation, whatever you call it, is a crazy thing. It makes you go nuts and do crazy stuffs. Then again, my right hand gradually snatches the phone for the hundredth time and I take a moment to reconsider.
“Should I call now or should I wait for his call?” but what if he never calls? Can’t I not forget my pride just this time and initiate. Maybe it’s no big deal at all. Maybe I am being indecisive and overly sensitive. I am calling now. Whatever happens afterwards let me deal with the consequences. I punch in the number again and decide to press the green button.
“Oh nooooo..” the bombshell dropped. I can’t do this. Those unanswered questions popped up in my head yet again.
The spacious room suddenly seems so small. I feel breathless now and my whole body is shaking. I feel like a school girl in the principal’s office ready to be penalized for some mischievous offense.
For every incoming call my ears would prick like that of a dog’s to the sound of bones only to end up disappointed when the caller id reveals it’s not him.
No I can’t do this today. I don’t have the guts to call now. Perhaps next time? Or the next-next time….if there’s one for us.