"You have one new message...

...and six saved messages." The same six messages you've had saved for over a year. Every time each of them comes up to be deleted you, instead, renew it. You are not reprimanded by the Verizon voice. In fact, she just merrily tells you that, "This message will be saved for forty days." She should say, "Idiot. This is the 53rd time you've resaved this message. Enough is enough already." You'd listen to her, an outside party. Maybe.

The messages, needless to say, are from jerks. Or, five messages from one jerk, one from another. None of the messages say anything of substance; but you wouldn't know, because you don't even listen to them when the voice mail system plays them prior to asking if you want to delete. You hear the first few words, "Hey, RD, this is..." And that's enough. You hit "9" to save before he says anything more.

You just want to hear his voice. And hear him say your name. And remember the days he used to call just to say hello. Or when he knew your schedule and what you were up to so well that he'd call because he knew he could leave you a message. Or to say he was on his way to see you. Or that he was thinking about you.

Even though the thought of him doesn't conjure the same emotions, and even though his voice no longer makes your heart fall into your stomach (in a good way), you can't bring yourself to hit "7" to delete the stupid things.

You've hit "7" on the relationship (with his help, of course), but you can't do it on the messages. Go figure.