note: this was written the day before he broke up with me
I had been thinking lately that it would be better if we waited till Wednesday to see each other. That way you'd get your full two weeks in. I imagined you calling and me saying, quite cooly, to call back again the next day, or perhaps Thursday, since that would even out us talking a day early. Though once or twice I perhaps thought you might change your mind and call Wednesday, I never seriously entertained the idea. You were the one who said we could do something on Tuesday in the first place, and it was your call.
This morning, I woke up in a good mood. I would get to talk to you, after all, if not see you. I went to class and chapel, then came home and checked my messages. Nothing. But no matter; the day was young. I took a nap, then went to buy you an anniversary present and drop off my applications. Nothing could shake my mood, though I was horribly nervous. I stopped back in the room before class at 6:30...No messages. I couldn't really believe it; I even pressed "PLAY" just to make sure. Still nothing. I decided you were waiting till after class, which was okay though it dashed my hopes of meeting at the Old Spaghetti Factory.
I got out of class at nine but dilly-dallied in the computer lab for an hour, surreptously checking my e-mail to see if you'd written. Nope. So I headed home, nervous and still a little excited. I decided to pass the time by making wrapping paper for your present. By 10:40 it looked beautiful.
At 11:15 I decided to make you brownies. They were done by 11:35.
Around 11:40 I decided to make a bow for your present. By 12:20 I was showing it off to the girls in the kitchen-lounge.
By 12:45 I decided I was tired and got ready for bed. I stopped back in the kitchen to drop off some dirty dishes and ended up engaging in a conversation about the effects of the secular world on the Christian psyche, among other things. I was glad of the diversion; it helped take my mind off you. Suddenly it was 1:30; I came back into my room with the dim hope that there would be a message from you, but no. I checked my e-mail one last time: nothing. It was 1:55. I crawled into bed, miserable, and decided to write.
It is now 2:25. You haven't called.
Today was the day I expected you to call. It was our year-and-a-half anniversary, and when I last saw you, you had said we would do something on this day. I was neutral, perhaps cross, but from that moment till now I had been expecting that today is when I would see you.