When I Start To Panic

22 Jan

When I start to panic, I call you. I don’t think about it, I just do. I click the favorites button on my phone and your name is right there at the top of the list. It says I’ve called you more than three times anyone else.

At first I called you tentatively. Only when I had a question about school, and even then I wouldn’t call more than once if you didn’t answer. Then I started to worry less that I was going to creep you out. I called you several times if you didn’t answer. I even called you when I was bored, sometimes. But not when I panicked. When I was panicking, I had other people to call. And they answered- sometimes.

Then one day I started to panic, and they didn’t answer. I called over and over, and their phones rang and rang. My heart started to pound, and I felt like I was going to throw up. I started to cry; slowly at first, and then more and more, until my eyes were red and my voice was distorted. I didn’t think about what I was doing. I clicked the favorites button, and scrolled to your name. You were fourth then, right below my mom. You answered right away, but that’s not surprising. You keep your phone with you all the time since you essentially see it as your kin. I said hello. I think I might have sounded like a frog.

I might have said thank you for this, but I feel the need to say it again. Not even so much for answering (that’s social etiquette I guess), but for talking to me until the late hours of the night and early hours of the morning. For telling me I was not a horrible awful person even when I felt like a horrible awful person. For telling me to trust myself. For skipping your homework. For understanding.

I know that I said you will never be my best friend. Even if I call you three times as much anybody else, I still won’t use those words. Best friend is a term that has been retired. For now, and maybe forever. I don’t have a best friend, because I can’t. I don’t know how to let people hurt me quite the way that I used to. Maybe this is another one of my immature phases, or maybe it’s a part of growing up. But you are so good at understanding. Please try to understand.

You see, you may not be my best friend. But you are the person that I call when I start to panic. I hope this is okay. I hope this is enough, and I hope I can be this person for you too.


One Response to “When I Start To Panic”

  1. freddymylove January 23, 2013 at 3:19 am #

    Now you don’t even bother to call, ’cause I already there.
    But I still had to change my verizon plan because of you…

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