I’ll call you on Sunday

“Mum, any calls for me?” – “No.” – “Are you sure?” – “Yes, I am!” – “Really no calls for me?” – “Nohooooo!” – “Well, did you go shopping or were you in the basement?” – “NO!” – quickly dialling my best friend’s number: “Can you please call be back, I think my phone doesn’t work!”

Do you remember those scenes? The times before mobile phones? We didn’t even have an answering machine and so you would never find out whether the object of your desire had called or not. But you COULD at least tell yourself that your mother had indeed left the house for two minutes and that he had called just then. Today, this is not possible. Landline phones with huge displays and mobile phones permanently show you the brutal truth. He did NOT call. Not even when you were in the shower. You can even call yourself from each phone to see whether they all work! This kind of ruins the excitement, doesn’t it? Cold reality on a phone display. Not like it used to be….

These thoughts are keeping me busy after hanging out with S. for the first time after 15 (fifteen!!!) years. S. was in my school year back then, but he was going to the other high school in our town. The senior classes were often put together from the two schools in order to offer more subjects. S. and I did not ever have a class together, but you knew each other there (or ended up in a corn field at a high school party, hypothetically speaking). After my ‘field’ studies with S., I was totally and utterly in love with him. He didn’t have the same feelings, but we became good friends (hmpf…).

As usual, after finishing high school, people scatter into all directions and that’s why I rarely thought about S. anymore  – until I was chatting with his sister on Facebook the other day and took the chance to ask what he’s up to. Boom, there was his mobile number and the information that he is back in our home town. We exchanged a few texts and the other day, he came to visit.

Well, what can I say – with some people, 15 years may as well have been a day. It was really nice, we started chatting away, and S. is still so damned good-looking! And he also so damned married! However, we realized that we apparently spent a lot of time together back then, but there is a lot of stuff we don’t remember. But we remember different things, so we DO actually have a lot of memories together – are you still with me? Good. So, on the way back from the café he said: “Do you remember the note?” – “Which note?” – “Well, the one with the date we set to meet again?” Slowly, a swath of memory wafted through my brain. I must still have this note somewhere, since I cannot really throw stuff away. But where? Then I remembered something… “Do you remember the letter you wrote me?” – “Letter? What letter?” – “I’m not sure, but it was something about me being too much of an “I-don’t-know” kind of person for you.” This letter had to be somewhere, too. But where???

Back home by myself, I obviously started to root through all drawers to come into question. And voilà, the note turned up first! >7th August 2021, old courthouse in xxx, S.< How cool is that? So that night we set a date for exactly 25 years later! On to the next drawer… and voilà, the letter! The letter in which he explains to me why he doesn’t want to be with me, even though >I am slightly in love with your unwieldiness and your sweet little-girl face with the surprised eyes, and when you look at me that way, I just have to hug you.< Please! World! How romantic! And how dramatic! But isn’t this great? No sms, no whatsapp, a letter because there was no other option to tell me all these important things since at the time he lived in another city. And now that the memory is coming back I can see myself reading this very letter sitting at my Mum’s kitchen table. I am nostalgically in love again straight away. And at the end of this letter which broke my heart back then, is a P.S.:

>I will call you on Sunday.<

The soundtrack for this – De La Soul: Ring Ring

Yours truly, madly, deeply!

Lunatique (who is 19 at heart right now)

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