The Text.

Good evening.


What's up!




Yes. Hi is better.

I know we haven't spoken in a while. 
Seven years and five months to be exact. 
But a few relevant events have led me to re-think our silence.

So yes,


You see, a lot has happened since.
For example, oh just a global pandemic,
a couple of heartbreaking wars 
and some fatal natural disasters.

Also, my father died.
No relation to any of the above.
That was just a crappy coincidence.

All of this felt like a fair warning to remind me, 
that we do not have all the time in the world.


In the midst of all this, 
just in case you didn't everything I just mentioned was enough, 

You might not think this would be a huge deal. 
After all, I started getting gray hairs ever since I was ten years old. 
A gift from my mother's side of the family.

However, this discovery sent me into a turmoil of thoughts,
and they went something like this:

What's next?
White pubic hairs?

If I ever see her (I mean you), again, 
how will my body look like?

Forget about the gray hair.
What about...
Saggy breasts, ass and stomach?
Wrinkled hands, neck, and we'll... EVERYTHING.
Am I still breathing? 
Why am I not feeling air?
Is this a panic attack?
Should I open a window? I should open a window.

What if you don't like me?
What if...
I am not even lucky enough to see you again? 
Even if it is in an older body?

What if you don't love me.


So, after I calmed down, 
it occurred to me that there is no better time than right now to text you.

I won't lie. 
I've had a good life.
I know you have too. 
The reason I know this is because I stalk you on social media every now and then to see how you are. 

Because even if I thought breaking up seven years and five months ago was a good idea, 
I still mean the last thing I ever said to you. 
Which is, in case you don't remember, 
I love you too.

And even if I was able to find different kinds of love,
I still dream about you.
I still think about all the plans we had that might never see the light of day.


All this to say, 
I don't think I can stand the idea of dying... 
And please don't be fooled by age, we could die at any moment. 
I don't think I can stand the idea of dying without kissing you again.


I am sorry for interrupting your night. 
If none of this makes sense to you, just pretend I have the wrong number and save me the embarrassment. 

Please know I have always wished for your happiness, even if it's without me.


Shit well, that was that. 

                    Did she text back?

Yes she did. 


She texted she wanted to see my white eyelash in person. 

Read the follow up story: The Date

A first edit of this story was read live at the
Sapphic Open Mic Night by @Ellelui.mtl in 2022

A second edit was read live at the Sapphic Soirée 
by in 2023


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