Too Crowded For Emptiness

My phone rang in the middle night.

It sits right beside my head so I can shut off the alarm as soon as possible.

Dreams sometimes envelop the reality around your bed.

The ringing phone, for example, became the song I was listening to while chasing the robber out of a fish tank. Well, I suppose I was swimming after the robber. For all I know I was probably flying after the robber with wings made of loose imagination. Nevertheless, the phone was ringing. The urgency I felt to catch the criminal made me ignore the music and continue my pursuit. Then, my conscious brain wrapped it's fingers around the dream and squeezed it until I realized that there was no robber, no fish tank. Now there was only the caller who was robbing me of my sleep.

I threw back the blankets in a hurry; I didn't want the caller to think they had woken me up by letting it ring too long. Too late. 1 missed call. Who could it have been? Should I bother looking? Doesn't matter who it is, I'm not calling back until morning anyway... Unless its an emergency. Then maybe I should check... just in case it is an emergency... In case maybe.. it was the robber.. fishing wings.. of swim tank...

1 New Voicemail!
I'm awake again...

I suppose it wouldn't hurt to just listen to the voicemail, figure out who it is, and then decide if it can wait until morning.

The automated voice blared momentarily, "You have one unheard message."
So I've heard.
"Message one:"

The blood in my veins stopped instantly. I knew this voice. Soft and familiar. It had once brought tears to my eyes. Symphonies have been written trying to match its melody, yet fallen short. And now is my dream-soaked mind fabricating this too? Will the fish tank suddenly implode and turn into jello squares that recite poetry from prison? This isn't my mind. This is reality. This is music. Or perhaps pain. The last time I heard this voice it was pain. The sharpness of it still fresh in the muscle memory of my heart. Still trained to skip a beat when I hear the voice, in an effort to spare the pain.

"Hello. I know you must be asleep... Its been a long time since we talked last. I've talked myself out of this for a long time now. I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't have called... I understand if you don't return this call... I

I need to tell you something. I won't be able to sleep until we can talk... Just for a few minutes... I know... I'm sorry. Please call me back."

Just like that. Back into my life. Her last plea drifted back and forth in my mind like a feather in the breeze, not coming to rest, just rocking back and forth. I'd rather it had been a dream. I'd rather not live this reality. The soft melodies are replaced now. Instead of summer symphonies, winter coats stained from the dirty snow covered roadsides. My life is different now, there is no room for past mistakes. It's too crowded for the emptiness.