Timeless

g.

2 May 2017

It had been almost two months since Brian's first message and we had spent a lot of our time messaging each other. It had become routine so quickly, that I found myself missing him if he didn't answer for a moment, especially in the mornings. We had talked so much, about anything that came to our minds, and we had gotten carried away a lot so that during the couple of months I had slept a lot less than I should have. There were times in which he was busy working - he worked at odd times - so those were the times that I tried to sleep or get stuff for university done, but he was always present. And he told me that it was the same for him. He had become such a big part of my life.

The deadline for my thesis was nearing, and I was constantly complaining to him about it, and sending him panicked messages. The deadline was Friday at noon, and it was currently Tuesday, a bit past noon, and I was sat at my desk, my laptop turned on and a long Word document reminding me of my impending doom. I was browsing through a book at the moment, trying to find the page I had referenced, but stupidly enough not written down anywhere. A mistake that I kept making and that I kept hating myself for, but somehow I didn't learn. If I was writing, then I tended to forget about things like that. How I had not gotten in trouble yet was a miracle to me. I was close to despairing.

So when my phone rang it was a very welcome distraction. "Oh thank god," I muttered, getting up to pick it up from my bed. "Yes, hello?" I answered it, not bothering to check who it was. Probably just Josephine trying to convince me to spend a little time with her.

"Mira?"

The voice at the other end was one that I didn't know. "Yes..?"

"Mira, is that really you?"

"Yes, but who are you?" Furrowing my eyebrows, I stood at the window and let my eyes wander over the view. As lovely as the voice sounded, it wasn't familiar in any way.

"It's me. Brian."

"What?" I widened my eyes, trying to comprehend that. "Brian? As in ... ?"

"Exactly..."

I let out a litte laugh, smiling widely. "Oh my god... but how? I mean... it's so good to hear your voice.." It really was. He had such a lovely voice.

"Well... I couldn't sleep last night, so I ended up thinking about you, and I thought that if this really is a phone, then I should be able to call you somehow, so I spent the night trying to figure this thing out. I mean, for the past weeks all I've done was write to you and take photos, but I never thought of trying other things with it..."

He had a really good point. I mean it was a phone. You used phones to call people, but the thought hadn't even crossed my mind. "That's... wow. A really good idea.. I'm glad you thought of that, really. It's so good to actually talk to you. How are you?"

"I'm wonderful, I'm so happy that this worked. How are you? What are you doing? I didn't interrupt anything, did I?"

He sounded genuinely excited, it was adorable. "No, no you didn't interrupt anything at all, don't worry. I was just writing on my thesis, but that can wait. I'm doing fine, actually right now I'm doing wonderfully because I'm talking to you. I still can't believe it."

"It's crazy, isn't it? Wow... I'm sorry, I'm just a little stunned right now," he chuckled a little.

"You're not the only one, don't worry.. I mean, I stopped believing that things are impossible, but it's still hard to believe." I sat on my bed and leaned against the wall, a probably ridiculously big smile on my face.

"It is, but I love it.. Really. I'm so glad that this worked. You've become so important to me, and it's so wonderful.." He paused for a moment, the only sounds coming over the phone were the sounds of him breathing gently. "You know, I might seem strange but I think about you a lot... At night I look at the moon, wondering if you look at the same moon.. if I walk through the city I can't help but wonder if it's the same streets that you're walking on, if you're breathing the same air, if the same wind blows through your hair.. I do think about you a lot."

I listened to his words amazed, that was so ... poetic, almost. "I think about you a lot too...," I admitted quietly. "I dreamed of you last night actually." I smiled a little and lay down on my bed.

"You did?" He asked with a little lilt to his voice.

"Yeah," I chuckled softly. "It's strange, I know, but we were writing until very late and I went to sleep right after, so you were obviously on my mind."

"I like that," he told me quietly. "I really do."

There was a moment of silence, which I simply enjoyed, before I spoke up again. "So what have you been up to?"

"Since when? The last time we wrote with each other? Last night?" He asked, chuckling softly. "Well, I've been trying to figure out this phone all night. And then I started writing a little."

"Another song?" I asked him, smiling to myself. He had told me that he was working on a few songs because he had a band, something that I admired because as much as I enjoyed writing, poetry - or song writing in this case - was a lot harder than it sounded.

He hummed a little. "Yeah. Well, an idea at least, a few snippets that I'm going to keep, who knows, maybe one day inspiration will strike and I can make a song of it. Maybe one day I'll have a melody without words, so it would be good to have some words ready. Does that make sense?"

"Yes," I chuckled, nodding a little. "That makes perfect sense. I admire that. What have you been writing about?"

"Oh just... whatever came to my mind. Nothing spectacular. I need a melody to make it better, you know?"

"Oh," I exclaimed. "Talking about melody. You've told me so much about your guitar and playing and all, I've been dying to hear you play. And now I could actually hear you play..."