A Phone Call That Will Never Come

Like a teen, I wait by the phone, for a call that I know won't come.
I'm too old - too wise? - for this to bother me.

It bothers me.

I've a house to clean and pay for, a dog to clean and care for, a husband to clean and care for.
They're neglected.
I prefer to wait by the phone.
I prefer the pain precisely because it's so familiar
because it reminds me of a time when I was physically well but emotionally broken.
I long for the days of emotional brokenness
because the physical pain is just too hard.
I'd rather pine for a phone call
than scour the internet for cures
or clean house
or walk dog
or give my deserving husband my time.
My mind's
a gift I want to give
to a recipient
who remains unfound.
My mind's the best and worst of me -
I long to share it freely
with someone I've found
who exists
only inside it.
I reside there
which means I'm never present
even when you're around.
I hear you chatting.
It barely registers.
I won't remember
because I was somewhere else.
Waiting for a phone call that I know will never come -
that I hope WILL come -
just to prove me wrong
just to right old wrongs
just to change the same old song.
I wait for you because I want something new.
I wait for you because I'm a hypocritical Jew
who wants others to make the world better.
External stimuli to distract from the feelings inside -
feelings of inferiority
ugliness
uncertainty.
But then, we all want to be loved.
We all want to be loved.
So intellect - tell me:
what does it say that I seek it from
a phone call that will never come?