BunnyBear

My phone rings, as always, after 9PM. It's Friday, so I feel the rush of happiness in my stomach that tells me we can talk from now until Monday morning and I wont be charged a cent. His voice comes over the line as always, slightly accented, deep but high, soft and rough all at the same time. My pillow lies wrapped in my arms as I imagine that voice coming from the place beside me, with his skin beneath my fingers.
We talk, as always, about our respective days, and he, as always, tells me about the newest chick who has thrown herself in his direction. It wasn't always like this but I've become somewhat used to it. Lonliness is quite the bitch to deal with when you're a thousand miles from anyone who cares.
As always, I steel my tone and stay as lighthearted as possible, searching for the place in me that is glad for his pure honesty. It's difficult because I have to reach through the part that's terribly hurt and terribly jealous. For a few moments it feels like it's going to swallow me whole.
As always, he tells me he loves me.


Another day. Tonight things feel different, he's less nonchalant, hanging on my every word as if this time, he's actually listening. Things are not as they always are. For now, it feels as it always was.
Sometime during the night he tells me that he's committed to me. Finally, my heart adds. Finally committed to me. 'No more sleeping around' is the restriction he places on himself. I'm afraid to believe it, afraid of this change to things as they always are to what they always were.
As he always used to, he tells me he loves me.




The day after another. As always, he tells me he loves me.