The phone rang but I didn’t answer.
It was him. It was her. It was you.
I thought they expected something from me. Not anything of value, just more than I could offer.
They weren’t ghosts or vampires. They were people who cared about me, and I cared about them.
But I didn’t know how to show it, so I let my phone go to voice mail.
I played this little game of talk evasion on my b-day last month. Maybe that’s how I managed to write 2,000 words in a session?
Anyway, the calls and messages haunted my phone.
My best friend. My other friend. My mother. My other kin. A client.
Bummer, I should have remembered to set up my Out of Office voice mail greeting for work purposes.
Wait. Is it okay to set up an Out of Life voice mail greeting?
“Hello, you’ve reached the voice mail of David Villalva, I’m currently avoiding humanity. Please contact me when I’m not aging out.”
My wife got a little spun when we chatted about my b-day plans.
We were in route to Home Depot when we discussed the time frames for the day, and at approximately 10:30am, I informed her I needed to depart in one hour.
“What?” she said.
“My movie starts at 1:30pm, and I’m going to grab a drink beforehand. Then do some people watching,” I said.
She shot me a look beyond The Twilight Zone, probably somewhere closer to The Outer Limits.
So I asked her if it was the afternoon drink or the people watching that disturbed her. I didn’t expect either to throw her off.
She relayed her issue was about me trying to spend next-to-no-time with her on my b-day.
Oh. This wasn’t about me, it was about her.
Well played wifey, I love you.
Well done Dave, you’re an idiot.
Again, I don’t know how to deliver the people I love most with the one thing they deserve the most. So today I’m professing my appreciation in this published post.
I’m hoping this counts because a bunch of my family and friends subscribe to this blog. And I pray they’re reading because I need them to receive this thing I rarely know how to express.
To my family and friends: I think about you. I pray for you. I love you.
Thanks for being special. Thanks for not forgetting about this often-introverted one. Thanks for constantly offering experiences outside of my comfort zone.
To myself: Remember how blessed you are. Remember to be grateful. Remember that someday, all of this will dissolve away.
To everyone: Please keep creating, writing, and expressing your real and raw self to your family, friends, and the page.