I knew...

It had been 45 minutes since I called him. He said he would be leaving soon. He should have been here by then, but he wasn't.

I called him.

He didn't answer.

I called again.

He didn't answer.

I started to worry. There was no reason he would be over an hour late without having called. Well, no reason I could think of unless... the phone rang. I rushed to answer it.

"Where are you?"
"I... I've been in a car wreck."
"What?!? Where?!? Where are you?!?"
"I'm...I'm over here by the house, it happened a while ago..."
"Why didn't you call me?"
"I had to talk to the police and..."
"Are You OKAY?!?!"
"Yes! Yes, I'm alright, I just need to go talk to my dad about all this so I'll have to come over another night I guess..."
"okay... Will you call me later, then?"
"Yes, I will call you later."

My fears affirmed. All I know is that he says he is okay. Was he rushing to get here? Was he anxious about our upcoming talk? So much so that he wasn't paying close enough attention? Was he rear ended? Did he rear end someone else? Is the truck safe to drive, now?

I want to drop everything and go over there and take care of him, but that's just not logical. Who knows if that is even what he would want? I certainly don't know. That's kinda what we were supposed to talk about tonight...

I think I am more upset knowing than I was wondering...