Love in the Lie
I texted her, “Call me when you can.”
She replied, “I’m working.”
So I replied, “Then call me when you can.”
She returned, “What is it?”
“Something to talk about, not text about,” I replied.
She called me later.
“What is it?”
“I’ve got to work 3rd shift on Friday.”
“Why?” she asked.
“A condition of the new position. I’ll be working one Friday on third shift every month.”
“But why?” she asked.
“Cause the regular third shifter’s working the weekend. So they give her Friday and Monday off. Which means somebody’s got to fill in. And that’s me.”
“The person in your job before did this?”
“Yes,” I said. “So, come Friday, I won’t be answering your calls or responding to your texts as I normally would.”
“Okay. Thanks,” she said. “But why did you have me call?”
Annoyed, I said, “Because I didn’t wanna try to explain all this in text. If it goes off the rails or there’s miscommunication, we cover it a lot quicker by talking.”
“You sound annoyed,” she said.
“Cause I’ve explained this multiple times,” I said.
“About you working late Friday?” she asked. “No. We’ve never discussed it before.”
“No,” I said, even more annoyed. “About texting versus talking when it comes to things that require explaining.”
“You’re annoyed with me?”
“I’m annoyed with having to explain.”
“You should try to act like you’re not annoyed,” she said.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because I might construe it as you being annoyed with me. And you shouldn’t be annoyed. I care about you. You care about me. That’s why we’re having this conversation, right?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I don’t want you to worry if I’m not replying as normal since I’ll be working late.”
“Then, even if you’re annoyed, you should act like you’re not. For me,” she said. “So I don’t have to question it.”
“I should pretend? I should lie?”
“Think of it as a fib,” she said. “Or a little white lie if you need it to be a lie.”
“Fibs are okay?”
“When they serve caring and concern.”
“What if I fibbed about loving you anymore. You know, for the sake of us still getting along since you still show concern for me.”
“You’re a wonderful man,” she said.
“That’s not even a fib. It’s a lie,” I said. “We both know I’m only okay. So don’t try to sugar coat it.”
“It isn’t sugar,” she said. “I’d call it Sweet ‘N Low.”
“Fake sugar’s gross,” I said.
“Yeah,” she said.
“Whatever,” I said. “But I won’t be answering your calls late this Friday.”
“Okay,” she said. “Thank you for letting me know. I’m glad we’ve got that straight.”
mrobins71 