Silence is her way.
Her way to express what she can not aloud. Though it maddens others, he’s patient as he waits for a response. After many moments that seem to last hours, her voice is quiet but firm: “I was thinking. About me, about you, about us. About the future and what it might hold, and the past’s ghosts. Just…trying to collect my thoughts, I guess.” She knows that’s not the answer he expected, nor the one he wanted, but it’s all she’s willing to give away at the moment.
She stretches out along her bed, wishing that she wasn’t holding a phone. Wishing she was holding him. That he was holding her. That the cold and snow didn’t separate them as it did. There is silence as he processes the information, trying to pick the best words. When he finally speaks, his tone is laced with caring and concern. “Well, okay, then. Just…well, are you going to be okay?”
She doesn’t know quite what he means.
And she says so. When his warm, rich laughter reaches her ears through the phone lines, she can’t help but smile. “I mean, is your train of thought leading to bad feelings or good ones? Will you end up feeling like you used to, before me,” here he pauses, and she knows he’s thinking of one that hurt her in the past, “or are you being optimistic?”
“Oh,” is her intelligent response, “Oh, um…I don’t know, really.” Pausing, she thinks a bit more. He turns on music on his end, something to fill the silence that doesn’t need to be filled. “Um…it’s a mix really…some of it’s good, so good, like when I think about us and stuff that’s already happened. But other times it’s not so good. Like when I worry about stuff that probably won’t happen. Stuff that just serves to make me more uncertain.”
She mentally smacks herself.
None of that was reassuring, especially to him. She realizes she spoke without thinking, something she’s doing more and more around him. Trying to help herself, and make everything a bit clearer, she sighs before continuing: “I…I just never have had anything like this. It’s scary and huge and something someone like me doesn’t deserve. I’m not pretty, not smart, not extraordinary. Just normal.”
His tone is fierce when he speaks. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You are an amazing person; beautiful on the inside and out, smarter than me – and that counts for something, and entirely too uncertain of yourself. You don’t think you’re good enough, when in reality you are more deserving of love and happiness than any other person I’ve ever met in my life. You deserve something amazing in your life, and if you consider me that – although I believe you might be a tad off in the head for thing me amazing – than just know I’ll be there for you. Whatever, whenever, where ever. I promise you this.”
She is too stunned to speak, but not enough so to stop the tears from falling as she smiles.