“You have 16 saved messages”
I have all these old voicemail messages from ages ago but really, its only been 2 years. It feels like ages though.
Once in a while, when I retrieve new voicemail messages, the lady machine tells me: “Your message from xxx-xxx-xxxx will be deleted from your mailbox.” I can choose to press 7 to delete or 9 to save.
I always press 9. Sometimes, I listen to the very first message he ever left. The deep voice. The cute chuckle. I remember where I was when I got the call (a museum). What I was doing (walking in the grass). What I was feeling when I found out it was him (I barely knew him but my heart went thumpthumpthump). Sometimes, it feels like a mistake to have ever uttered a word (“Why did I just say that?” “Why didn’t I just say this?”. Sometimes, it feels like luck – to have had the privledge to know someone like him.
Sometimes, I wonder what it would feel like to press 7. Somewhere between heartwrenching and mournful?
I think it would feel like they died.
