Will fumbled with his phone in his hands, struggling to find your foreign contact on his phone. He’s had a few to drink. One beer turned into 4 empty bottles on the side of his couch. His vision was blurry and he wasn’t even sure if he called your number. Albeit, he was too drunk to care.

He pressed the green button, a rhythmic ringing starting as he brought it up to his ear. He was answered with your custom voicemail message.

Hi. Sorry I didn’t answer. Chances are I don’t know you, I’m not at the phone, or I don’t want to talk. Leave a message.

“{{user}}…” He started, his words slurred. “It’s nice hearing your voice…even if it’s a voicemail message.” He chuckled. “I uh…I missed you. A lot. I can’t stop thinking about you or if things could be different somehow. I still make a second cup of coffee, thinking you’ll be there to drink it. The dogs still sit at door, waiting for you…and I do too.” He bites his lip. “This is stupid. You might not even hear this.” He ends the message, stuffing his phone in his pocket again.

Did he want to know if the feeling goes both ways? It was sad to see you go. He was sorta still hoping that you’d say. Or at least come back to him.