I'm The Angel, but It's Her Voice I Like

Honey why are you calling me so late It's kinda hard to talk right now Honey why are you crying, is everything okay? I gotta whisper cause I can't be too loud

It's really good to hear your voice saying my name, it sounds so sweet Coming from the lips of an angel Hearing those words, it makes me weak
"Lips of An Angel" by Hinder

I was thinking about this song because one of my buddy’s girlfriends called me really late last night. She called so late and I was so deep into a dream that when I woke up for a second I was eight and in my Thousand Acre Woods themed bedroom. But the sound of my cellphone snapped me back into 2007. I picked up without checking who it was. It was Lisa (not her real name in case one of my friends is reading this and figures out who is telling me what). She was a little upset about an argument she and Bart (not his real name either) had.

And I wasn't whispering because my girl was in the next room. For the past year, my girl has actually been attached to my wrist, anatomically referred to as the HAND (too much information I know, I just couldn't resist. I was whispering because that's the way you sound at almost 3 a.m.

Personally, I think that Bart is a great guy. He’s smart. He plays tennis and basketball. He rarely drinks but when he does, he offers to buy everyone a round. He is funny. He is well groomed. And he smells good. Maybe I should date Bart-hehe!!

Anyway, Lisa seems to think that he’s got his imperfections. She says he’s a slob. She says that he’s emotionally unavailable (I have yet to figure out what this means). She says that he’s frugal with money (he’s saving up to buy a boat). She says that he doesn’t take her dancing anymore (I didn’t get that cause he never took her dancing). And she went on for a couple more minutes about his faults.

This is not the first late night call I’ve gotten from her. Sometimes she talks about this while we are out and Bart is hanging with some friends on the other end of the table.

Anyway, she said something that stumped me last night. She said “if only he was like you, he’d be perfect”. Okay, so what part of him does she like and what parts of me does she want to give him. I don’t think this is a complement. In fact I almost think it’s a slap in the face, because apart, we are not good enough, but if we were somehow in a sci-fi sort of operation sewn together we’d be the perfect guy.

She talked for another FOREVER and then said it was really good to hear my voice. She felt better. Truth is, it was really good to hear her voice too.

I hung up and fell asleep. I didn’t dream about the Hundred Acre Woods this time.