Making It

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The phone rings.

It's him calling. I’m taken aback. What in the world?

I answer.

He says “What’s up?” like there has been no distance between us. No time has passed.
We talk for a minute. I try my hardest not to blurt anything out.

That’s a struggle.
So much I am wanting to say. So much that I can’t let pass through my lips.
I babble. As always. We talk over each other. Both nervous.

He interrupts my senseless babble and says “So have you been okay?”
“Yes, I’ve been great.” I reply.
I lie.

Great? Ha. How about “Missing you terribly?”
How about, “I’m smiling and wanting to cry right this very second?”
Alas, I can’t say these things.
“How are you?” I say without missing a beat.
“Good.”

I say something stupid. I hear him smile into the phone.
I HEAR him smile into the phone.
Yes, I know him well enough to know these things. To hear these things.

We chat for a minute more.
Deciding we’re both okay. Making it okay.
We say our goodbyes.
I press “end.”

And that’s the life we live.
A check-in ever-so-often, and on we go.
Both just “making it.”

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This was written January 22, 2014.