Ghosts

It was a quiet weekend, but I received a disturbing phone call. I had a previous life. A rather unhappy, stagnant, sad previous life that I walked away from several years ago. I left behind people who just didn't fit anymore. Maybe it hurt them, but that wasn't my intent. Well, one of these people called me on Saturday night.

She's the mother of a guy that I dated for like a year in high school. She filled a huge gap left by my own incompetent mother and I was a daughter that she could take shopping and go to lunch with and try to mentor. She was an important influence on me when I was a kid, but our relationship had begun to sour for me well before I pulled my disappearing act. She calls now like once a year or something, always dramatic about how sad she is that I don't call her. The guilt is so palpable already in her messages that I really have no desire to return the call and I haven't the last few times that she's called. I already have one mother who's heart I've broken, do I really need two?

So Saturday night, I'm out with some friends having a lovely time, getting ready to see a show and I have a voicemail from a Restricted number. This fills me with terror. I have a phone phobia, I really do. This developed from many years of avoiding my mother's calls and then for awhile the ex's. The phone usually equals someone yelling at me and telling me what a piece of shit I am. Also, the phone means small talk. I'm horrible at small talk. I have to figure out what I'm going to say, be witty and engaging, get the timing down right. It's a lot of pressure! Some of this is mitigated by caller ID, I mean I know if it's one of my friends calling it's probably ok
but my friends text me or email. An actual conversation is something that takes place when we're together.

So I check the voicemail. It's her. She's been trying and trying and trying to get ahold of me (does one call a year really constitute trying and trying and trying?) she thinks about me all the time and wants me to just leave her a message letting her know that I'm ok even if I don't want to talk to her (seriously?) Greg's dead and her brother's dead and she just wants to hear from me. Ugh, my stomach is churning, the anxiety is rising. What do I do? Well, the obvious answer is that I call her back, I mean what's the big deal, I should be happy that she cares enough to still be trying to maintain contact with me, right? I'm an asshole, right? But the feeling is more like walking through a dark swamp while slimy hands pay at your feet, trying to find purchase of your pant leg and pull you down into the deep dark depths. WTF is wrong with me?

I haven't called yet. I should just bite the bullet and do it, get it over with, it'll be my good deed. (I totally just typed dead instead of deed, Freudian?) What is this thing that I have about the phone? I can't even call people when I know they're going to be friendly. Seriously. Ok, so anyway that's weighing on my mind.

The rest of the weekend was lovely. I stayed in Friday night, did nothing. Watched TV and read. I worked out on my Wii Fit a whole 30 minutes. Saturday, got the car washed, did some dishes, put the laundry away. I went to the Anaheim Halloween parade, which was cheesetastic! There was an elephant and Shriner's in mini cars. Then we saw Bug which was ok and then closed down Big's. Area 51 was playing, which is actually a good hair/metal cover band. Yesterday, hung out, watched Lars and the Real Girl which was good, kinda sad. Finally got around to sending out the newsletter. I made chicken enchilada soup and de-seeded a pomegranate. Read. It's nice to read. :)

I want it to be winter and then I don't. I can already feel the depression creeping in, little fingers and toes of it. I'm ok but I'm sick of the dry hot sunshine heat. I want moisture and sweaters and cold and cuddly time. I need some cuddly time. :)