I Won't Hold My Breath

When you call someone and you go straight to voice mail the first time, you don't take it personally.  You think, "They're probably busy.  They'll call back."

But when it happens 7 straight days, you realize there's something more to it.  And when it's your 20 year old bipolar son, it's no surprise.

Calling my son is like diving off a cliff.  

With the first monotonous ring, my hope is suspended. And as I'm about to break through the surface, I cringe, fearing the impact.

With the next monotonous ring, I'm twenty feet under murky water with my eyes tightly shut, holding my breath, knowing I can't hold it forever.

Then with the next monotonous ring, I slowly rise to the surface.  It looks like a glimmer of blurry sunlight shimmering up above me, but I know it's only an illusion.

With the final monotonous rings I'm becoming more and more certain he won't answer.

Damn that caller ID.