Hangups

by Cherrae L. Stuart ©2025

The liminal space between night and the breaking dawn was a crack in reality begging to be filled with secrets. People spilled their problems that they wouldn’t dare face during the day. Alone in the studio, Janice basked in the glow of her On Air sign, listening.

Normally, she loved her job and her life. During the darkest hours of the night, she kept the lonely people who had to be awake company. Night nurses and truck drivers were her biggest audience, but her callers came from all walks of life, staying up past their bedtimes to ask the night for help. She'd never been in a long-term relationship before, positive or otherwise, but her listeners ate up her advice. One of her most quoted sayings You don't have to be gored by a bull to know what a red flag looks like she had printed on t-shirts and mugs. They always sold out.

“And then he says I’m being crazy and jealous for having a problem with him talking to his 'best friend' in the middle of the night outside in his car, sometimes for hours. I don’t know if I should break up with him or keep pushing to make it work.” The caller took a shuddery breath and blew her nose.

Janice flipped the volume dial down to protect her audience from the sudden trumpeting onslaught. This was only the fourth caller, but she was already over it tonight. The callers were different from the regular listeners. Listeners lived for other people’s drama. They relished the harsh down-dressings. High on their own superiority, they wallowed in the sloppy shame that was not their own.

Callers didn’t want hard truths. They laid their hearts open, wanting her to tell them their walking red flags were marriage material, and they were, in fact, crazy. So many were ready to gaslight themselves if it meant they were special. A fairy-tale version of an impossible relationship was possible for them.

Her smacking them in the face with reality made great radio.

"Let me get this straight, Emily…” She had perfected the art of the gentle hardline. The audience ate it up. “He has a female best friend. He said they used to hook up before he met you, and did every time both of them were single. He says they are not hooking up now, but he has late phone calls for hours. She called you and said she intends to outlast you in this relationship. He said, and I quote, ‘That’s just how she is.’ That’s it. No reassurance, no setting boundaries, not having your back in any way? Sound about right?”

After another honking nose blow on the other end of the line, the woman answered. “ Yeah, that about sums it up.”

“If this were another caller, what do you think I would say?”

“Real love doesn’t have to hurt?” The caller’s voice wavered.

“That’s right, Emily, Real love doesn’t have to hurt. Now, audience, I want you to say it with me out loud to Emily and to yourselves. I know it’s late, but whisper it if you have to. REAL. LOVE. DOESN’T. HAVE. TO. HURT.

There is a reason this is the mantra of this show. There are too many of us out there wasting away to keep someone else fed. Be it significant others, our parents, our friends, or even our jobs. If anybody treated our loved ones the way we allow ourselves to be mistreated, we would revolt. Where is the defense when it comes to yourself?

Now, Emily, I want you to do this task. Imagine your best friend told you this exact story. Write her a letter giving her advice. Then take the letter and give it to yourself. Can you do it?”

“I don’t know.” Emily sniffed.

“The only one that can help you is you, Emily.” Disgusted, Janice disengaged the call and tapped the next lit button on the switchboard. They were all lit up tonight, and she needed some air. She would have to take a music break soon.

“Next Caller, you’re on Hangups.”

“Hi Janice.” The velvety smooth voice made her heart skip a beat. The deep baritone of her mystery caller always gave her a shiver. He had been calling every night for the past week, and she found herself anticipating his call. A dangerous and rapid addiction, suddenly everything else about the job she used to love felt tedious and draining until she heard his voice again.

“Hi Caller, it’s nice to hear your voice tonight. Do you have a comment on Emily’s problem, or do you have a problem of your own?” Janice’ breath quickened and her mouth flooded, hungry for details. She ached for any personal information about her mystery caller, but he never gave any clues.

“Emily..." he started, and Janice flinched. She gripped the desk and sat up straight. It didn’t make any sense to be jealous. But here it was.

"Regardless of how deep or intimate your significant other’s relationship is or isn’t with this other, is this the kind of relationship you are content to be in for the rest of your life? Do you desire emotional instability? Do you wish to feel alone, sitting next to him? Why batter yourself upon the rocks of his indifference?”

He spoke as if he were from a different time, or perhaps he learned English from classical literature. His un-placeable accent called up silks and ancient spices and salty sea air whenever he spoke. When he said her name, the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention. She bit her lip to keep from screaming at the stabbing wound of him speaking to anyone else but her.

“That’s very insightful, caller,” she stammered out. Ignoring the half-dozen flashing lights of other callers waiting on the line, she pressed him for more. “Why don’t you tell us a little bit about yourself this time? I’m sure the audience is as curious as I am.”

He laughed a deep rumble that made her stomach flutter, and her body tightened.

“I am unknown and unknowable.” He answered.

“Ohh, a big mystery man.” She tried to sound cool and detached, like normal, but her voice cracked, giving her away. “Why don’t you start with why you called that first night?” Silence. For a moment, Janice thought the line had gone dead.

Tears burned her eyes as she fell into a deep, empty longing that could only be filled by this soft, masculine voice across the airwaves. Was this love? A black hole that left you scared and alone and vulnerable, and defenseless. One person could dash you or exalt you depending on a whim? If so, she wanted no part of it.

This was a lie, but she clung to it like a life preserver.

“Caller?” Her voice was barely audible. Maybe her desperation had scared him away. Was she giving off pick-me energy?

But then he answered.

“I was alone for what seemed like an eternity, but then you called out over the ether. You asked the night if anyone out there knew what love was, real love. No one had ever asked that of me before. I listened to you for a fortnight, and I came to understand you were the one who would hold the love I have to give. I will let you in. Let me visit you tonight.”

Janice’s breath caught in her throat. It was what she wanted more than anything, but she couldn’t say it on the air. It would set a dangerous precedent. Any Tom, Dick and Weirdo would think they had a right to access her in real life just because they were allowed to call in for a few minutes between midnight and 3 am? No, thank you.

“I can’t let you do that. We don’t meet callers in real life.” Saying the words ripped her heart into a million threads that would never be stitched back together again. She would never be whole, never be fulfilled without the owner of this voice in her life, in her real life.

The intensity of the emotion and fragility of her heart scared her. Would this person break her? On the heels of that thought… This wasn't a person. Janice was never the superstitious type, but a deep, ancient instinct sounded an alarm. The air in the studio pressed against her body. Her vision blurred, and her heartbeat quickened. She was a woman falling into an abyss, and dark, slithery things that would fill her and destroy her resided in this cavernous black hole.

He laughed again, and her body shuddered on the edge of a dangerous ecstasy. “I can come to you in your dreams,” He cooed in her ear. His voice was less like a call in her headphones and more like a caress of a person in the same room. An invisible hand cupped her neck, stroking her cheek. “I just need you to say yes.”

“Will it hurt?” She had no idea why she would ask such a thing. She didn’t care if it hurt. She would let him break her into pieces. She was standing on the edge of a ravine, ready to jump.

“The pain will be exquisite, you will never will never wish to be without me. Once joined, never parted.” He said. Thousands of callers flooded her mind

He said I was nothing without him.

I couldn’t breathe.

I’m trapped.

Janice saw herself in bed, wasting away. Her body a jumble of skin and bones, wrapped up in sweaty sheets, cocooned in that voice, writhing in pleasure and pain until she died. She reached for the lit caller button with a trembling hand. She was battling for more than her life.

“Real love doesn’t have to hurt.” She disconnected the call.