Your Phone Number

I was one of those who hardly remembered phone numbers. It took me a while to get a grip of my own but memorising yours felt like a swift of cold breeze that I didn't see coming but enjoyed every bit of it everytime it gently caressed the flicks on my forehead; coursing up and against my deepest walls and furthest beneath, far greater than anything I could identify with my belief. 

It was your phone number.

You know when you hit your toe in the most unexpected ways with the most unexpected things, it doesn't hurt at that particular second but the following, it agonises you and all that blood rushing towards your head makes you wonder whether it's the pain or the anger that you feel so strongly. While trying to decipher the difference between the two emotions, I always got caught up and just how I tried to ease the pain in my toe, I tried to ease the pain within. It really made me wonder whether it was the pain or the anger but what followed was always the deleting of your phone number. 

It was your phone number.

Your phone number stayed in my speed dial for almost an eternity, it felt. Something about it made my dependency vulnerable. It was frightening at times but never did it occur to me that those ten figures on my dial pad would ever be incapable of dissolving all my troubles, even if it was just you shaking your head in dissapointment while cleaning my spectacles. 

It was your phone number.

I'm still unfastening my seat belt. It seems like if I put it away at once, I might crash into absolute dissolution. I know the car isn't moving anymore, I need to open the door and step out but it needs time, the unfastening needs time. And while I sit in my car, I go back to your phone number, gaze at it, reminisce all the times that are now behind us with a hope that when all is said and all is done, I'll still have your phone number that I'll hold on to, even at eighty one.

P.s Nothing personal, it's all written in the spirit of creativity. :)