I like to listen to saved voicemails. It’s like unlocking the thoughts and emotions of someone frozen in time. I listened to a couple of them today in my car and just about died laughing. They all made me smile while others made me alittle sad. I had the lovely experience of being able to reflect. These are eye opening moments…when you are able to look back and muddle in that place-then look up to realize time has passed and the amazing part is, you have to.
Voicemail 1: A friend of mine was experiencing the same struggles as I was concerning boys. Phase one of break ups: the “getting over” part and let me tell you the most torturous. I have to admit I laughed in tears because her message brought me back to those days that I ashamedly admit still experience at times. Part of that phase that hits you hard is the attachment phase or rather detachment. Everything you shared with that particular person now makes you want to vomit because it reminds you of them and makes you miss them even more.
For example, "I can’t eat at Vegan places because he was considerate when we went out to eat and took me to places with Vegan options." As my friend so dearly put it, “should chicken suffer because I won’t allow myself to glance at the Vegan section?”. Or even more so, “I can’t listen to rap music because he hates raps music and I listened to rap music because it was the only genre of music that didn't make me think of him but yet still does. Fail.” Yeah that gets you too…even the things they abhor.
Voicemail 2: Same friend…”so I drove by his place today…only because it was on my route home and made me think about him”. Creeper mode….why? Because we want to know what is going on in their lives and how do you do that without them knowing because if they know, then that defeats the purpose because they aren't suppose to know because that isn't part of the detachment. How do you sever the connection of everything that you shared with them? How do you take it all back yet don’t wish that at all? How do you find yourself so torn between wanting them and wanting to be rid of them at the same time?
Voicemail 3: His voicemail. Yep, the one I didn’t delete. I know there are girls who need to delete that guy’s number and voicemails because it helps them to shy away from texting or contacting that guy for their own emotional guard. Completely understandable. Maybe I should do the same. However, I’ve just never been that girl. I usually keep everything for sentimental value so it’s not a surprise that I didn't delete it. So I decided to press play (it’s been a while since I have listened to it and yes, I did have most of the message memorized and yes, I hate to admit it but well, it’s frankly the truth). I listened and actually laughed. It made me alittle sad but all I could say was, “that guy…he is just something.” and it didn't hurt as much.
Voicemail 4: One of my closest friends was waiting at an airport and needed a friend to talk to and take her away from her anxious feelings about life. She was waiting for someone to land (literally and I would dare to say metaphorically). Further, she had frustrations on being unproductive with her thesis project. She’s come a long way in dealing with those two situations and might I say, I couldn’t have been more proud of how far she’s come. Her heart has moved on and embraced newer things and she owned that thesis project. I was proud. That made me smile.
These voicemails brought me back to emotions that I needed to awaken to. Whether they were pathetic, sad, happy or lonely, they happened. I guess if anything, moments like these are inevitable…pathetic ones where you wish no one in the world was watching, sad ones where you need a friend’s shoulder to soak the tears, happy ones where you want to grab the stranger next to you and give them a big hug, and lonely ones where you feel no one could possibly understand….these moments happen but remember dear friend, that you have that beautiful privilege of looking back because time moves forward and you eventually will. So I encourage you as much as myself to start moving.
Love,
C
