I made the call.
The call I’d been afraid to make for five years. To say I was afraid is not completely honest. At first I was angry, “Damn her! I hope I never have to talk to her again!” Next, I was uneasy, “I hope I don’t see her out somewhere. That would be awkward.” After I left the state I felt relieved and removed from the possibility of having to face her. Finally here, five years later – I was feeling guilty. “Damn, I should call her.”
After I stepped back from the situation I could see the players with more clarity. My co-starring role in the play became more apparent – at which point I realized that I had not been totally correct in my actions and reactions. If fact, I had been dead wrong, hence the guilt.
(Hummph! Who needs all this damn clarity?!? )
So, I called her. The friend I had buried away somewhere in my memories. The one who had been like a sister to me. The one who’s friendship I cherished. So, you know I’m nervous right? I dialed four digits and hung up. “Ummm, I need to pray.” After a quick petition for guidance and courage I went on and dialed the number. The phone seemed to ring forever….giving me time to think….”what if she’s mad?”……..what if she doesn’t want to talk to me?.........what if she asks me why I didn’t call sooner? Then I heard her say, “Hello.” And I think I heard myself say “Hello.” When she recognized my voice she said, “Angie?!?” and I said, “Urban Red?!?”, and that was all it took. It was as if we had just spoken yesterday.
No angry words or recriminations – and none of the ugly scenes I played out in my head came to pass. It was exactly the right time for both of us, therefore natural and genuine. I apologized for a laundry list of things and she did too. We caught up on each others lives and families. We said we love each other and parted with heavy sighs and light hearts.
I’m glad I made the call.
