I just called to say I love you

I hate the phone. I hate those awkward pauses on the phone, when you don't really know what else to say but you can't say goodbye. Maybe I hate the phone because I have a deep fear of the phone. I hate ordering pizza, making appointments or calling my staff to remind them of things. I hate it when they don't call me back too. Anyway, I mention all of this because of the ridiculous amount of time I spent on the phone this week. But I didn't hate it for once. I loved hearing funny stories about emo boys at lunch being called gay by a 90 year old woman for singing too loud, about the 3 stitches it took to close Joey's eye after a fight, err, I mean basketball game. I loved talking to Claire and hearing about Seattle and chatting with JT as she did her grocery shopping and shared with me her unbelief that avocados cost $2! But then he called...ya, you know who. It gets me excited and depressed all at the same time. I wish I really understood my feelings towards him. We can have so much fun together and the next minute I'm a stranger. We hadn't spoken in a month and that last conversation was maybe 2 minutes long. This one went for an hour and it made me wish I was close to him again. I wish he cherished me the way I deserve to be cherished. I guess it's better that I had that experience with him when I did. At least it prevented me from giving every bit of my heart to him. I guess boys don't really understand the power they have over girls. Or he did and really wanted to hurt me. That sucks...