still isolated.

The second and third day of Maggie's self imposed incarceration were ...interesting. She thought to herself, "This is accomplishing something. I'm not sure what. But something."
She made perfect sloppy joes. She made perfectly wonderful mac and cheese. She thought about things, and tried to rest from thinking all together. She watched 'Holiday' on the second night, and confirmed that she thought Katherine Hepburn was altogether over-rated.
And on the third night, she was watching 'Being John Malkovich', when married guy decided to call.
It was one of her favorite movies. Just her cup of tea. And she was relating to this movie as though God himself was sending her a message. The IDEA of being in someone else's body so that you could be WITH the person you love! Genius.

And then he called.
His tone was ....distant. Matter of fact. Why had he called anyway? What the hell did he want?
The pain and the tears ran up into Maggie's throat and tried to choke her. These feelings felt like they had their own hand - a STRONG hand - their own grip, and they wanted to choke the life out of her.
"Why?", she thought, "WHY??? Why do i care? Why does it matter?" she grasped for air, for clarity, for some reason to hold on to like a life boat..."And HOW - HOW is he doing this to me?"
The phone call hurt. She tried to remember what he had said. something about "I can't talk for long. But I wanted to hear your voice..."
And that wasn't bad...but his tone , and his manner, and ...his sign off.
"I could have been his real-estate agent", Maggie thought.
She conjured up (and it was easy) the first time - the first time recently - that he had said good-bye to her on the phone and said "I love you."

There were no words. There were no words. No words for how that simple three word sentence affected her.
She hadn't been quick enough to say it back. The connection was gone and she was left saying it back, "I love you,too." to the empty space that resides where phone calls end. She had wanted to reach out and grab him, physically and hold on - say it again and again so he would understand - "I love you, too. I love you."

Not this time. No "I love you" at the end of the call. He was fading back into his world. As he should. As he should. And there was nothing she could do about it.

Three days of isolation. And that was it. Without this man, without this love...she was more alone than she had ever been in her life. That's just how it was.
So, Maggie called her tenant - the other loneliest person she knew or had ever known, and asked him if he wanted to go to the pub. He did, and they drank it away.

The poison filled her with numbness. And numbness was better than extraordinary hurt.