Distance Makes The Heart Grow Fonder

I love my friends. Really I do. It's probably easier to tell when I am actually with them, though. Since most of my friends live at a distance from me, you would think that I talk with them on the phone, or text to keep in touch. I'll be honest. I don't. Not even my best friends will override my intense dislike of phone calls. The most they might get is a text. Usually not even that.

Fortunately, they don't seem to mind. We just wait until we are back together and then spend the next eight hours catching up on everything. Let me tell you, talking for that long will wear your voice out.

It does make me wonder, though. I know that I myself am a low-maintenance friend. I don't require a great deal of time and effort to feel secure that we are still friends. What I question is if I somehow managed to collect a circle of friends that are the same way, or if this is maybe not as unusual as I might have once thought. Maybe it's a combination of the two factors.

Or maybe these friends feel that I am extremely fickle and are simply far too polite to complain about my apparent neglect.

I used to email a couple of good friends on a fairly regular basis. This was back when people would actually print out emails to save them. I probably still have them in a folder somewhere among my childhood things. While I don't feel quite as close to one of these friends due to no longer keeping in constant contact, I still feel that old bond, and were she to suddenly call or want to hang out, I'd be all over it. After I got over my anxiety from an unexpected phone call, that is.

Email seems to have gone out of fashion, though. Instead we have texting and Facebook. I'm finding Facebook more and more impersonal, and I don't really think I like it. I've gotten to the point that I share very few pictures and even fewer statuses updating my friends about my life. I have been using it to post links to the blog, though. Maybe that will satisfy someone.

The one and only reason I can come up with for why I do not text my friends--unless I don't have their phone number--is that I am terrified that I will text at an inconvenient time. I realize, logically, that that is exactly what texting is for. They can read and reply later if I send at an inconvenient time. But there you have it. I'm paralyzed because I don't want to make someone else uncomfortable. I really need to work on that.

So...more social anxiety from me, and I think I've said enough for now about my love/hate relationship with communicating via cellphone.


Want to read more about my introverted misadventures?
Check out these posts:

I Hugged a Stranger
Talking To Myself
Shhhh...I'm Introverting

The Phone Call

I got a phone call yesterday afternoon. I was just sitting in Braum's talking with the family over drinks when I felt the buzzing in my pocket. I pulled it out and checked who it was. It was myself. 

I don't have a home number anymore, and it listed the number of the phone I was holding. I stared at the screen in disbelief before I swiped the bar and answered the call. 

"Hello?"

Silence. 

I was a bit unnerved, so I hung up. Everyone at the table was giving me funny looks. How do you explain that you just prank called yourself? We all laughed it off and picked up our conversation, but I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that would not go away.

I got a text message that evening from the same number. My number. It was blank. I'm not even sure how to send a blank message. It had me really creeped out, and I was starting to feel nauseated. Deja vu is normal, and I'm used to that. This is weird. Disconcerting, even. 

I know my phone is old, maybe it's malfunctioning. That's it. I must just need a new one.

Except when I checked my email this morning, I had an email. From myself. That I didn't send. I do email myself occasionally to remind me of something, but this one is blank, except for the signature at the bottom.

I drove to our local AT&T store in a panic. I knew they would think I was crazy, so all I told the salesman was that I needed a new phone. Mine was old, it even had a crack in the back from where I had dropped it once. Just to be sure, I had them change the phone number, too.

I sighed with relief as I drove home with my new phone. I left the old one at the store. I don't care if they recycle it or throw it away. I got home and began setting up the new phone how I want it. 

I got another message. From my new number. This one isn't blank. 

"Took you long enough."

I stared at the message in disbelief. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat as I typed out a reply. 

"Who are you?"

I half expected the same message to show up in my inbox. It didn't. 

"I think you know. Or at least you suspect who I am."

Mind games. Perfect. At least they don't use chat speak. 

"What do you want?"

I was a little scared to ask that question. 

…

I stared at those ellipses for over a minute as my tormentor typed a reply. 

"I'll let you know when I have that figured out."

That was the only reply I got. I tried texting, calling, even emailing myself trying to get answers. I haven't gotten any response. I kept pinching myself, trying to wake up from this nightmare. That hasn't worked, either.

Am I contacting myself from the future somehow? If so, why? My stomach still hasn't settled down. I couldn't eat much supper tonight. I'm keeping my phone handy, though. Just in case. 

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction inspired by a true event. I did get a phone call from myself. It was weird.