The Best Thing I Never Had.

   Following special request, we will be discussing my Pakistani telephone stalker. For the sake of my life being a little bit interesting, I regret to inform you that I have not heard from my friend(s) overseas. For the sake of my sanity, and the ability to actually use my phone, I am not sorry to have lost contact with them. 

   I'm trying not to let it step on my groove though. Despite that voice in the back of my head telling me 'you fat cow, you were just the flavour of the Pakistani minute' I press on, and try to remain confident. I refuse to let this be a testimony about my ability to hold a man's attention in general. I am a fighter! In the words of Ke$ha, "boys blowing up my phone", alas it is no longer. But I will persevere, and not let my ego get crushed under the weight of never knowing what might have been of the mystery man from overseas. It had so much potential to be the best-- no. I can't think like that. No good will come from it. 

   But oft I wonder if he ever thinks of me. If he ever sits in his Pakistani house/ apartment/ upper west side condo thinking of me: the nameless, country-less lady, whose voice he only heard once, at nine a.m declaring the first and last words of our bittersweet missed connection, "who is this? I think you have the wrong number".