Day 98

Sunday.

It had been days since I had last heard from or seen Marc Hanson. Laying in bed I curled my legs against one another slowly examining the piles of fat that was collected atop them. I stared at my pale bruised skin, and the freckles that spotted it. My eyes were heavy and drooped, permanent bags residing underneath my eyes I hadn’t done much of anything since I went on my date with Marc. I closed my eyes and rubbed my legs against one another slowly in disgust of myself.

Hey, Isabelle, I’m sorry. Hey, Isabelle, I’m sorry. Hey Isabelle, I’m sorry.

I buried my face against my pillow and exhaled slowly trying to connect the dots. Marc was kind enough to leave a message a few days after he had disappeared from our date, but that was the point.

It was just a simple voice mail.

I threw off my covers and rolled out of bed, hearing Busters claws tap against the wooden floors somewhere within the apartment I felt every bone in my body ache as I slowly trudged over to my landline. I took a seat in the chair and threw the phone onto the table, and stared zealously at the device. I placed one knee on the cushion and rested the edge of my chin on the bare skin, as silence collected throughout.

Was he sick? Maybe he was allergic to something. Maybe he fell when I wasn’t looking and hurt himself..? Maybe I did something…? Maybe.. maybe he just didn’t like me and it was staged. I wracked my brain for half an hour, listening to the voice mail in hopes of finding a suitable solution to what had went on. But nothing fit. Nothing would ever fit. I tried to get to know him and and accomplished next to nothing. It happens, and that’s a fact. I need to stop trying. Life goes on.

The phone rang. I flinched, nearly falling out of my chair and let the ringing settle in my brain for a short moment. Was he calling me? I traced my fingers around the table quickly making random ‘O”’s but for some reason, I refused to pick up the phone.

I just let it go to voicemail.

“Hey… Are you busy tomorrow? I know it’s a monday, but I was wondering if you wanted to go out to lunch maybe? If you’re not working. It’s been a while! I miss you. Talk to me.” the voice stopped talking and hung up.

My stomach churned and twisted into knots of pure disgust and disappointment. Marc hadn’t called me. It was just Kate.

He was never going to call, and I needed to accept it. Just accept it.