To wait by the telephone

To wait by the telephone,
wondering if they had as good a time as you,
if they feel the way you do.

Or is it all a fantasy in your head?
Were they merely tolerating your time together,
trying to make the best of it?

Humoring you when you talked on too long
about subjects you thought interested them
because they asked a question?

And it's not like you're not empathetic.
You'd think you'd be able to tell,
But now it's all a blur.

You thought you were reading the signals right,
but now you can't remember a thing,
so you can't prove it to yourself.

So now you want one more signal,
one further bit of evidence
that they're interested.

Interested in continuing,
interested in going further,
before you take another step.

But what if they think they've been perfectly clear?
Think the ball is in your court?
And read your reticence as disinterest.

Or what if they're shy
or awkward
and just can't force themselves to send the signal?

Or what if they're waiting by their telephone,
wondering if you had as good a time as they,
if you feel the way they do?

Or is it all a fantasy in their head?
Were you merely tolerating the time together,
trying to make the best of it?

© 2004 Philip F. Rose
Friday, January 30, 2004 • (0) CommentsNon-nonfictionPermalink
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