supernovice

I called you from a payphone on a frozen mountain top in Quito Ecuador. Nine thousand feet above sea level, every breath was a challenge - then again, maybe the thin air had little to do with that fact. I knew you were away and would not answer. , but your voicemail greeting briefly washed away my anxiety of our forthcoming, dangerous transit.
I had rehearsed the message I would leave for you over and over until it was perfect. At the sound of the tone, I froze. Standing there, open-mouthed, I drew nothing but inexpressiveness, released a half-hearted sigh, and hung up the telephone.
You always said that you didn't mind the distance and that, "the distance will define us." Presently, I am here and you are nowhere near; it occurs to me that you were rigth all along.