private number

This morning, as I was frantically trying to crimp my eye lashes in time for work...

ME: Hello?
HIM: Hello darling...
ME: Who is this?
HIM: You don't recognise my voice?
ME: I think you have the wrong number.
HIM: I miz you...
Me: Wrong number!

How can it be, that the mere thought of him grazing my brain on New Year's Eve could translate into him calling me up out of the blue, after all this time?

A couple of nights ago, over the phone, someone confided that on New Year's Eve, in a fit of "loneliness or whatever", he had texted some of the girls he had gone out with before.

I told him I'd mentally gone through a very short list of my own, too, that night, but managed to stop myself from contacting anyone -- except the Liverpool fan.

His conclusion was, "You need to get laid." Perhaps he was speaking for himself.

But I speak for the both of us -- and perhaps the "wrong number" caller too -- when I say that it's the time of the year when everyone needs someone, but not just anyone will do.