a missed call

I stared at the phone. A number I didn't know. No message. Just a missed call. I thought about calling back. But something stopped me. Maybe it was the unknown. Maybe it was the effort. I put the phone down. The day went on. I forgot about it. Or I thought I did. It's been weeks. The number still shows up in my mind. I see it on scraps of paper. On the edge of my vision. I wonder who it was. What they wanted. If they'll call again. I don't think about it constantly. But it's there. A small hum in the background. A reminder that I don't know what's on the other end of the line. I started thinking about all the other things I've left unresolved. The emails I haven't answered. The books I haven't finished. The conversations I've avoided. It's not just the missed call. It's all the other things too. The things I've put off. The things I've ignored. I don't know what the point of this is. Maybe there is no point. Maybe it's just a collection of thoughts. A jumble of feelings. I do know that I'm still thinking about that number. Still wondering who it was. Still thinking about what could have been. I've been trying to fill the space with other things. Work. TV. Books. But the space is still there. The unknown is still there. I'm not sure what to do with it. I guess that's the thing about missed calls. They leave you with questions. And no answers. Just a blank space where something could have been.