Notes From Issac
It was a little before 6 in the morning when the phone rang. Mimi always kept her iphone on the bedside table so that she could use it as an alarm. She was terrible at getting up in the morning. She had planned to get up at 7, and she knew that this hour of sleep loss would affect her functioning for the day. Issac was calling. Why was Issac calling? She hadn’t spoken to him in over two years; they hadn’t parted on good terms. She felt her chest tighten. Two years of no contact, and she still felt the same pain she had felt the day they had parted. The anguish she had felt over the past two years was more distressing than any physical pain she had had to endure, and she had endured a lot. This pain was far more debilitating too. There had been periods in her life where she had been unable to walk or do much of anything from pain, and still, she took it in her stride. But when this anguish was triggered, there was nothing she could do but experience it. And what an awful experience it was. There would be short periods where she would believe herself finally free of this torment. She was over him! Still, then she would be reminded unexpectedly by a film, an actor possessing green eyes familiar to his, or a meme she would have liked to have shown him. Then the pain was overwhelming. She felt that pain watching the phone ring. She knew that she must compose herself before answering, the humiliation of him knowing her pathetic devotion was too much to bear. She had her pride, after all. But it wasn’t Issac who answered; it was a woman’s voice. She didn’t know that her stomach could sink any lower, but this confirmed the fact that it could.
