Call me, don’t text me.
I delight in hearing your voice,
listening to you stutter,
feeling the exasperation in your words –
the stress of your day.
I don’t care if you cuss,
or if you say mean things –
talk to me.
Come and see me,
don’t Facebook, blog, or tweet me;
none of those give me what I need.
I want to know you deeply,
I want your humanity –
both the good and bad,
ugly and pretty,
disgusting and lovely.
When I said “I do”
I meant it for all of you –
especially your sound.
Your text is not special;
Times New Roman, Comic Sans, Candara – they’re all the same.
But you, with your voice,
I married you not because we had long IM convos
or many lol moments;
but because you snort when you laugh
and hiccup when you drink soda;
because you hold your breath when you’re mad
and your voice trembles and shakes when you’re mourning;
because you say “I loooove you” –
I need the extra “o”s.
I didn’t marry a computer or cell phone;
I married a wonderful woman
with a beautiful voice;
so please, don’t text me.
Talk to me.