Hey Sinister, As soon as I put the phone down on the hook, and stopped trembling I grabbed for a pad of paper and started writing but I couldnt get past hello sinister. I contented myself with the promise that Id write better tomorrow when my head was clear. Its been 3 days, and its taken me 10 minutes to write this. I find that I can only write about something after its happen. And its still happening. As I put my pen down I went to my parents bookcase to look for Charles Dickens A Tale of Two Cities, I had the line "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, ringing in my head. Have you ever felt so exhilaratingly happy, and disturbingly scared at the same time? Before I grabbed for the pad of paper I was on the phone with my err, well I dont really know who I was talking to anymore. (No, not my girlfriend, but I dont like to say ex its not a proper word, I don't like the way it sounds and certainly doesnt reflect how I feel). Her. The girl. I think you get it. After an hour of me rambling on about nothing, she very politely, told me to go. We talked about chocolates, the Polyphonic Spree, Dostoyevsky, as if it were August, but the great extent of the conversation was me just rambling on and on. I was so anxious that there would be an awkward silence with the noise of each other breathing the only sound to be heard, or a pregnant pause to an ill thought out remark on my behalf, I just kept on rambling and rambling on, throwing any word in sight down the phone. I dont think she minded, I dont think she knew what to say either. It was so wonderful to hear her voice. I could have just curled up on my bed, and let her voice creep like a snake into my ears, actually I think I did. I didnt really care what she was saying, it all sounded like music to me, corny I know, but truthful. I stood with the phone in my hand, my finger poised over the last digit of her number for almost as long. I was so nervous. I couldnt press the button down for the shaking of my hand, or for the fear of her words (or perhaps it simply was the vodka I was drinking). What would she say, after I pressed down 3. Would she be glad I phone? Did she hate me? I wouldnt blame her. I wondered whether shed be in, or out enjoying herself, forgetting about me. I wondered who would answer the phone, her or one of her sisters, her parents - would they recognise my voice, would they raise an eyebrow, would they tell me to put the phone down? What I thought about the most was myself though. Was this the right thing to do? If I put the phone down I could still escape. If I waited just a couple more months perhaps the tears would stop, and then later the pain. But I couldnt last a couple more months, I could hardly last an hour. Throughout the conversation I had to keep biting my lip, whenever she mention university, her new life - her life without me. Id missed so much, and what had she missed? Nothing. At the slightest mention of a person I didnt know, let alone a man I became insanely jealous, (and my lip very thin,) but as quickly as we changed topics it evaporated. Can I do this? Can I be her friend, just her friend only her friend. Ive spent too long with her to know anything else, to want anything else. I just want to hold her hand, hear her voice, but still... Well it doesnt really matter if I can or cant, as soon as I picked up that phone, no as soon as I sent that letter I pushed myself into it. And I cant walk away again. I had the grandest plans in September, but as September changed into December all such plans had dissolved, and all I could do was write her a letter. For the past three months Id been painting her a painting. I wanted to do the most honest, beautiful and poetic thing I was capable of, but as is customary for me, I ran out of time, and all I had left was a letter. At the time it seemed like the most poetic beautiful thing Id ever read let alone written. Actually, no it didnt, but it was all that I could think of, quoting from Byron to Nick Drake, and as soon as I clicked on the SEND button what confidence that was left in my body vanished. I checked my inbox every hour, even though I knew it would be empty (sinister didnt count at the time), but to my surprise she replied the next day. I was so ecstatically happy, but just as I was about to click on it, I was overcome by a rush of fear. I paced up and down the hall for about half hour until I had the courage to open the damn thing. As soon as I read all two sentences of it the fear had streamed out of my body. She said shes missed me! Oh, joy! I read it again, and again, and as I did the fear started to creep back in. Why had she used the past tense, yes she missed me, but does she miss me, how does she feel now? And why did the first sentence emphasis friends so heavily, and why the passive voice? I closed the window, I shut the computer down, I stopped thinking about it. Until the next day, today, when I phoned her. I had to phone, her I couldnt think of anything else to do, I had to do something. But I have no idea what Ill do now. I just hope I can remember how to be her friend Sorry, I should have waited, my head still isn't clear cheerio andy ps terrible news about joe strummer, pss I heard b&s on the radio, number 20 in the festive fifty not bad, although I still havent made my mind up about the song, lovely trumpet nonetheless ppps yes, that was my poor attempt to include some content, sorry again _________________________________________________________________ Add photos to your messages with MSN 8. Get 2 months FREE*. http://join.msn.com/?page=features/featuredemail&xAPID=42&PS=47575&PI=7324&DI=7474&SU= http://www.hotmail.msn.com/cgi-bin/getmsg&HL=1216hotmailtaglines_addphotos_3mf +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+