A Diana story.
Three weeks ago I was driving across southern Louisiana. I was on the road from Georgia to Texas with a rig full of Tupperware, and had the radio blasting to keep me awake. As usual, the radio had little coming in that was of interest to me, and I was flipping through the stations time and time again. Suddenly, my radio spewed forth a familiar voice. A caller to a late night talk show, the voice was obviously that of Diana (cherryskinwino).
I was a bit surprised that she would be seeking advice on such a strange forum, that of a radio call in show, but without a doubt it was her.
"I simply do not know what to do," she said, "I feel so confused. My life is not what I want it be, but I don't know how to change it. I am dissatified with everything. Nothing is right."
They were sentiments I had heard her voice before, but I didn't know that it was all so bad that she would sink to calling her radio. Perhaps she was just bored and could not sleep. I don't know.
The radio person answered her, saying something about taking a day off to herself to reevaluate her life, and to look for direction by talking to Jesus. Diana started to speak again, all she got out was a "But.." when she was cut off, and the show went on to talk to Joe in Houma, who was feeling sad since his dog got hit by a car.
I paused for a moment. Should I call her and reveal that I had heard her plea on the radio? It might embarass her to know that I had been listening. Yet, I thought to myself, if it was bad enough that she was doing such things, she could probably use a call from me. I pulled off the highway at the next exit, pointed the rig towards a truck stop, where I hopped out of the truck and went to a pay phone. I dialed her number.
She answered after several rings, and expressed her surprise to hear from me. I revealed to her the reason for my sudden call in the middle of the night. She didn't deny that it was her on the radio. I invited her to come out to the truck stop, that I'd buy her coffee and we could talk. It was about time for me to call it a night anyway, I told her, and it would be good to see a friend. She asked me where exactly I was, and I told her. She said it was a bit of a drive, but that she figured that she could be there within an hour. I hung up the phone, and went into the cafe, where I sat smoking and drinking coffee until she arrived.
She stepped into the truck stop somewhat timidly. No doubt at some point during the drive she had decided that she was insane for coming to me, and had considered turning around. But something kept her on the road, wheels spinning towards me.
When she spotted me, her face lit up. The timidity was gone, and she rushed to give me a hug. We embraced, lingering in the moment. I could see in her eyes that she felt better already. She sat, ordered coffee and a doughnut. And we talked. She talked, I listened. The hours flew by. Soon, the light of dawn was beginning to shine through the cafe windows. Advice to give her, I didn't have much, but I don't think it mattered. She was sorting it out by herself slowly. I hated to do it, but I had to go. I told her that I had to be moving on, that it would be a long hard day without much sleep.
She became worried, expressing disgust at herself for keeping me from rest. I assured her it was alright, that I'd done many long hauls with little sleep, and that I would have told her if I had any serious doubts about my ability to do it today. And yet she was still concerned.
She offered to ride along to Texas with me, to make certain I did not fall asleep at the wheel. How that would have delighted me! But, alas, I do not own my rig, and allowing her to ride along could cost me my job. We parted ways, her driving home, me heading down the road.
I could not stop thinking about her. The things she said, her mannerisms, they were all stuck in the front of my head. I was only able to drive a hundred miles before I stopped to call her. I revealed to her how she was glued in my mind, and she admitted that she was feeling the same for me. We arranged to meet again when I was on my way back to Georgia. The miles buzzed by, I knew I would see her again soon. I dropped my load in Texas and turned back east.
Daydreaming of seeing Diana again, maybe I wasn't paying enough attention to the road. I had just passed Lake Charles when it all went wrong. It began raining torrentially, and visibility was almost nonexistant. I slowed the rig down, thought I was doing alright. I didn't see that stopped car until it was really too late. I tried to stop, but there was too much water on the road for me to even have a chance. My rig jack knifed, and spun off into a ditch. Everything went black.
They tell me it was touch and go for a couple of days. I'm alright now, on the mend. I won't be moving around much for awhile, but I should be able to adjust. My phone number book was lost in the wreck, and I haven't been able to contact Diana since. I have a vision in my head of her sitting alone in that truck stop cafe, waiting for me only to be disappointed yet again. I sought to ease her pain, and have no doubt made it worse. Diana, my love, I will be back for you some day soon. I hope that you will forgive me, but I understand if you do not want to. I should have found some way of letting you know before now just what happened, and why I could not be there to meet you. Please, forgive me.
I was a bit surprised that she would be seeking advice on such a strange forum, that of a radio call in show, but without a doubt it was her.
"I simply do not know what to do," she said, "I feel so confused. My life is not what I want it be, but I don't know how to change it. I am dissatified with everything. Nothing is right."
They were sentiments I had heard her voice before, but I didn't know that it was all so bad that she would sink to calling her radio. Perhaps she was just bored and could not sleep. I don't know.
The radio person answered her, saying something about taking a day off to herself to reevaluate her life, and to look for direction by talking to Jesus. Diana started to speak again, all she got out was a "But.." when she was cut off, and the show went on to talk to Joe in Houma, who was feeling sad since his dog got hit by a car.
I paused for a moment. Should I call her and reveal that I had heard her plea on the radio? It might embarass her to know that I had been listening. Yet, I thought to myself, if it was bad enough that she was doing such things, she could probably use a call from me. I pulled off the highway at the next exit, pointed the rig towards a truck stop, where I hopped out of the truck and went to a pay phone. I dialed her number.
She answered after several rings, and expressed her surprise to hear from me. I revealed to her the reason for my sudden call in the middle of the night. She didn't deny that it was her on the radio. I invited her to come out to the truck stop, that I'd buy her coffee and we could talk. It was about time for me to call it a night anyway, I told her, and it would be good to see a friend. She asked me where exactly I was, and I told her. She said it was a bit of a drive, but that she figured that she could be there within an hour. I hung up the phone, and went into the cafe, where I sat smoking and drinking coffee until she arrived.
She stepped into the truck stop somewhat timidly. No doubt at some point during the drive she had decided that she was insane for coming to me, and had considered turning around. But something kept her on the road, wheels spinning towards me.
When she spotted me, her face lit up. The timidity was gone, and she rushed to give me a hug. We embraced, lingering in the moment. I could see in her eyes that she felt better already. She sat, ordered coffee and a doughnut. And we talked. She talked, I listened. The hours flew by. Soon, the light of dawn was beginning to shine through the cafe windows. Advice to give her, I didn't have much, but I don't think it mattered. She was sorting it out by herself slowly. I hated to do it, but I had to go. I told her that I had to be moving on, that it would be a long hard day without much sleep.
She became worried, expressing disgust at herself for keeping me from rest. I assured her it was alright, that I'd done many long hauls with little sleep, and that I would have told her if I had any serious doubts about my ability to do it today. And yet she was still concerned.
She offered to ride along to Texas with me, to make certain I did not fall asleep at the wheel. How that would have delighted me! But, alas, I do not own my rig, and allowing her to ride along could cost me my job. We parted ways, her driving home, me heading down the road.
I could not stop thinking about her. The things she said, her mannerisms, they were all stuck in the front of my head. I was only able to drive a hundred miles before I stopped to call her. I revealed to her how she was glued in my mind, and she admitted that she was feeling the same for me. We arranged to meet again when I was on my way back to Georgia. The miles buzzed by, I knew I would see her again soon. I dropped my load in Texas and turned back east.
Daydreaming of seeing Diana again, maybe I wasn't paying enough attention to the road. I had just passed Lake Charles when it all went wrong. It began raining torrentially, and visibility was almost nonexistant. I slowed the rig down, thought I was doing alright. I didn't see that stopped car until it was really too late. I tried to stop, but there was too much water on the road for me to even have a chance. My rig jack knifed, and spun off into a ditch. Everything went black.
They tell me it was touch and go for a couple of days. I'm alright now, on the mend. I won't be moving around much for awhile, but I should be able to adjust. My phone number book was lost in the wreck, and I haven't been able to contact Diana since. I have a vision in my head of her sitting alone in that truck stop cafe, waiting for me only to be disappointed yet again. I sought to ease her pain, and have no doubt made it worse. Diana, my love, I will be back for you some day soon. I hope that you will forgive me, but I understand if you do not want to. I should have found some way of letting you know before now just what happened, and why I could not be there to meet you. Please, forgive me.