she called me today.

i answered, walking outside from work, to her surprise. "hello," i said.

"oh. hi. i thought i'd get a machine. this is emily," she said.

"i know," i said.

"i have a favor to ask of you."

and my head started listing all the things she could ask of me. earlier today i had thought someone would call me, for emily, telling me to meet her somewhere, so the first thing i thought was that she needed my car.

"it's a huge favor. i need to use you."

and my head started thinking okay, she needs alcohol. no, she needs an excuse to get out of the house to do whatever.

and no matter what she had asked i would've said yes to.

"hey, crayon, can you quit work right now, drive 60 miles in twenty minutes, and bring me a bottle of advil." "why, yes emily! i'll be right there."

"hey, crayon, my new boyfriend wants to sleep with me. can we use your apartment?" "why, i need to clean it first, but yes!"

instead, she just asked me if she could use me as a reference (i was her boss for a while). i said, "of course, yes."

and then we talked.

ten, fifteen minutes. and her voice was sad, which was different than the hardness i had heard the last few times i talked to her.

she still thinks it's best for us to be like this. and i'm still telling her if she ever needs me, to call.

i told her the worst part about this was that if she needed me, i wouldn't be there.

she said, "i really didn't want to call. it's sending the wrong message."

and my heart breaks over and over in one conversation, and i want nothing more than to drive to her house and make her laugh.

it hurts that i open my wallet and her picture is there, smiling at me, those curls and that dimple and i want to take her picture out, bury it in the bottom of a drawer i never open.

but i can't. because kim's picture is still in my wallet, and i'll be damn if kim's picture gets more wallettime than emily's.

but, oddly, at this point kim's picture hurts much less than emily's.

i have been angry, off and on, a lot this week. really angry, to the point of yelling in my car, punching the steering wheel, filling the bath tub up and holding my breath underwater.

and today, today was okay. i was calm, i was moving through things, doing okay, and then she called.

and i said something like "i was going to give my car away."

and she said, "don't do that."

and i said, "but it feels better that way."

and the conversation felt right in a way i don't care to go into detail now.

and for a god damn split second i thought maybe she didn't want to get off the phone with me, maybe we could work this out, come to a patient truce, maybe she would go bowling with me and we could be awkward and quiet together, but we'd be together, friends.

then i said goodbye and she said goodbye and she hung up.

and it hit me. not the anger, but this rush of sadness, this stupid feeling of being such a goddamn fool to have lost one of the most beautiful people in my life.

i lost myself after that. did work i don't remember, worked an extra two hours, drove and couldn't remember where i had just been.

i need to give up on the fairy tale stuff. i need to let the dreams die. these stories in me, they're nothing but escapism.

i need to face reality, understand this huge solitude every man must face.

and also, almost immediately after getting off the phone with her, i felt this ripping sensation inside.

you know how it is when a bug breaks through that little protective shell? like cicadas, how they'll leave dried husks clinging to trees?

i know that's what i'm going through right now, this pain and this longing and this changing inside, it's that, it's me changing and growing and becoming what i need to be.

what, maybe, i want to be.

a lover, a spouse, a parent. maybe.

giving, brave, honest. maybe.

worthy. maybe.