Keypad

I'm staring at the keypad on the phone. I need to get out of here and do something. The phone is only 2 feet away from me. Sara is only 2 feet and 2 seconds away from me. As long as I'm typing something I can't pick up the phone and call her. This is terrible. All I want to do is call her and tell her I'm sorry for calling her. I'm sorry for not leaving her alone. I'm sorry for loving her so much. I'm sorry we can't be together forever. How hard I'm trying not to call her. How hard I'm trying to leave her alone. How hard I'm trying not to love her so much. I just want to tell her how hard I'm trying. Folks, this is how I was before I started blogging. I'd start to 'freak out'. I can't go back to being like that. It's a wonder how few times I would call her when I got like this. Usually I'd find something to distract me long enough for this to pass. There's my coat. Just need to put it on and go outside for a long walk. Give myself time to get back to thinking rational again. But I have to stop typing for that to happen. Freeing my fingers to dial a number. Or to put my coat on. Here goes.


**Note added 5 minutes later**
Oh yeah. Now I remember why I never called her more. I share an office with somebody else and I thought he was gone for the day. Just as I was dialing her number, he walked in. My office is the only place I can call her from. We don't even have a payphone in this building for me to use a calling card. Guess I'll go for that walk now.