moving on

by jennifer

sunday night, back in austin.
tired, sad. tender, bruised, hickey-ed neck.

i think to call paul, the real estate agent i'd met the weekend before. he had left a message on my answering machine thursday, but i didn't return his call before going out of town.

so there i was, paul's business card in one hand, cradling my phone in the other.

i turn to my roommate and ask, "is it wrong for me to be thinking about one guy (david) and calling another? when i have a hickey on my neck from someone totally different?"

she looks at me sympathetically and says, "you're just trying to move on."

so i call.

paul's voice on the answering machine, smooth and low.
i leave a message after the tone.

+++

monday night. no word from paul.
still sad, listless.
a little bit desperate.

i think about bookstore boy.
he was so cute!
we had such cute nervous repoire!
he was a doctor!

so i decided to call him.
i'd already deleted his number from my cell phone. so i looked through my online cell phone records. dialed calls in november. i'd only called twice.
found the number and rehearsed my excuse.

i would say, "i was just looking through some old papers and came across your number!" not totally untrue. i was looking through old records.
his phone rang and rang. he didn't answer. i didn't leave a message.
i realized that i couldn't call twice with the "i just now happened upon your number" excuse.
decided that it wasn't meant to be.

decided that i was probably meant to be alone. at least for now.