“Won't you call me?” The day I, who feared those words, was liberated from the curse of LINE
To me, hidden behind a suit of armor made of text, a "phone call" was far too defenseless.
For me, LINE was a sanctuary, the only stage where I could perform as a perfect version of myself. To the person on the other side of the screen, I could show my best self. Before sending a message, I would spend at least ten minutes refining it. The choice of words, the placement of punctuation, the selection of emojis and stickers. I poured my focus into all of it, constructing an intelligent, kind, and interesting person who left no room for misunderstanding. It was like a programmer writing beautiful, bug-free code; it was the task I was best at and the one that gave me the most peace of mind.
As long as I wore this sturdy armor made of text, I was invincible. If my reply was late, I could make the excuse that "work was piling up." If the conversation seemed about to stall, I could provide an interesting topic I'd looked up online. The nuances of emotion could be expressed with a single, carefully vetted sticker. There was no room for the flaws of the real-life me—the impatience, the nervousness, the stuttering, the clumsy responses—to creep in.
However, phone calls are different.
A phone call was a defenseless battlefield that mercilessly stripped away that armor from the inside.
It is real-time, and uneditable. Once a word flies out of your mouth, you can never take it back. Silence becomes an awkward atmosphere that pierces the other person, and my impatience is honestly conveyed through the trembling of my voice. Clumsy interjections, a high-pitched voice, moments where I get stuck on words. All of it exposes the "defects" of the person I am to the light of day. To me, a phone call was a terrifying "surprise test" that put my communication skills to the trial.
That fear runs deep. Looking back, it had always been that way. On calls from my parents back home, I could only ever say "yeah" or "uh-huh," and they would sigh, telling me to "talk more." Even now, the sound of the office extension ringing makes my heart jump. I have lost count of the times I have stumbled over the name of the person I was trying to transfer a call to, leaving my mind completely blank. I also had a complex about my own voice, which I found to be lower, darker, and less attractive than I imagined when I heard it recorded.
That is why I kept running away.
“Can you talk on the phone now?”
Every time this sentence was sent via LINE, my heart would contract with a thud.
“Sorry, I’m on the train right now...”
“I’m sorry, I’m a bit tied up right now, I’ll LINE you later!”
“Oh, my battery is about to die...!”
Instantly constructing every possible excuse, I kept fleeing from the battlefield of the phone. What was I supposed to talk about with someone whose face I couldn't see? I was so afraid of silence and so ashamed of my voice cracking that I even considered deleting the act of calling itself from my life's options.
A smooth LINE conversation, and a sudden proposal
My LINE exchanges with the girl I met on a matching app were surprisingly smooth. After our first date, we had decided on a second, and our relationship seemed to be steadily moving forward, at least in text.
We sent each other reports of our trivial daily lives. If I sent, "I found such an interesting bug at work today," she would reply, "Good work! My boss said something unreasonable to me and I'm a bit down (lol)." If I listened to a song by an indie band she liked and sent my thoughts, saying, "The guitar solo in this song is amazing," she would reply with a sticker conveying her joy, saying, "Right?! I'm so happy you get it!"
Text-only exchanges were my ultimate territory. I would think carefully, choose my words, and construct the perfect reply. If I saw a message where she seemed a little down, I would search online for "words to encourage a woman" and convert the phrases I thought were most effective into my own words. That process, much like the programming I excelled at, gave me absolute peace of mind. In this world of LINE, I was undoubtedly an "attractive and reliable man" to her. I was convinced of it.
Then, one night, while our LINE exchange was continuing as usual, a message arrived from her.
“I’m kind of tired of typing (lol). If you’d like, would you want to talk on the phone for a bit?”
In that instant, my thoughts came to a complete halt. Time stopped. No, only my heart began to beat at an abnormal speed, thumping away, ringing like an alarm deep inside my ears.
It was here. The proposal I feared most.
A sudden notice of an air strike that would destroy the safe, perfect world of text I had built.
Countless thoughts raced through my head like a storm.
“What do I do, what do I do, what do I do!”
“What if I refuse? Will she think I’m not interested? Or will she realize, ‘This guy has no communication skills’?”
“But what if I fail on the phone? Everything we’ve built, everything I’ve accumulated over these past few weeks, might come crashing down with a loud noise.”
“What am I supposed to talk about? I can’t tell a single interesting story. What if there’s silence? If there’s silence, it’s over.”
For several minutes, I stood frozen like a stone, clutching my smartphone. On the screen, her carefree message and a sticker of a laughing cat were displayed. To her, it was probably a casual suggestion. But to me, it was a life-or-death choice.
"Sorry, I'm out right now..."
"Oh, I'm with my family, maybe another time..."
Excuses to decline kept flooding my mind. Yes, I should run away. That's the safest option. The moment I thought that, a small but certain voice echoed from the depths of my heart.
"If you run away now, you'll go back to the person you used to be."
That day I faced myself in the mirror. That day I threw away the black clothes in my closet. That day I gathered the courage to go on my first date. The memory of the walls I had slowly overcome barely kept my fingers from choosing the "run away" option. To run away from this phone call now would be to deny all the effort I had made until now.
I took a deep, trembling breath.
With shaking fingers, I tapped the smartphone screen.
"S" "u" "r" "e" "," "o" "k"
It took what felt like an eternity to type those six characters. I pressed the send button. There was no turning back now.
It happened immediately after. As if to test my resolve, her name appeared on the smartphone screen, and a shrill ringtone I didn't remember setting echoed throughout the room.
The Terrifying First Phone Call: Scribbled Notes and a Blank Mind
The ringtone blared. To me, it sounded like an air-raid siren. My heart felt like it was going to jump out of my throat. Panic. My mind went blank.
"W-wait! I'm not mentally prepared yet!"
Before answering the phone, I screamed in my heart, "Wait, let me get ready!" and frantically grabbed the notepad on my desk. On it was my "Conversation Topic List Ver. 3.2," which I had been writing up daily in preparation for the emergency of a phone call. It was the crystallization of my anxiety and fear.
[Kenta's Conversation Topic List Ver. 3.2]
-
Introduction (Greeting)
Hello? This is Kenta.
I was surprised by the sudden call (lol)
-
Talking about the weather
(If sunny) The weather was nice today, it felt good.
(If rainy) It's depressing when it rains, isn't it?
(If cold) It's gotten cold all of a sudden lately. Don't catch a cold.
(If hot) It was so hot I felt like I was melting.
-
Questions about weekend plans
Do you have any plans for the weekend?
If not, do you have any recommendations on how to spend it?
-
Deep-dive questions about hobbies (excerpted from her profile)
Cafe hopping: What's a good cafe you've been to recently? Do you take your coffee black?
Reading: What book are you reading now? Who is your favorite author? Any mystery recommendations?
Music: What songs have you been listening to lately? Do you go to concerts?
-
Final resort for emergency silences
Thoughts on movies or dramas watched recently
Talking about favorite foods
Talking about childhood dreams
With this much, it should last about 10 minutes. I spread my notepad out in front of me and took one, two deep breaths. Like a soldier heading into a decisive battle, I tapped the call button.
"Hello?"
"Oh, h-hello. T-this is Kenta."
My voice was higher than I expected, which surprised even me. It sounds like a frog croaking, I thought in the corner of my mind. She replied with a bright, lighthearted voice, just like her LINE messages, saying, "Sorry for the sudden call!" That voice, however, only amplified my nervousness.
"I-i-it was cold today, wasn't it?"
I squeezed out the item from my notepad, "Talking about the weather (if it's cold)," like I was reading from a script. "It really was. You can't go without a scarf anymore, right?" Even though she agreed with me, my head was full of trying to find the next thing to say. I had no room to think about the natural flow of conversation.
"U-um, d-do you have any plans for the weekend?"
I cleared one item from my notepad. I felt like checking a box. "For the weekend, I'm just going out to eat with friends. How about you, Kenta?" "I-I don't really have any..."
Darn it. If I had lied and said I had plans, the conversation might have expanded. But I answered honestly. The conversation is ending. Silence is coming.
The few seconds of silence felt like an eternity. Only the ticking of the clock in the room sounded painfully loud. My throat was parched, and I could feel cold sweat running down my back. My mind was going blank. The contents of the notes I had prepared so carefully began to look like nothing more than meaningless strings of characters.
"Oh, uh, well..."
I have to say something. Something, anything...! My mind was on the verge of a short circuit, filled only with the impatience of "What should I talk about next?" and "I have to fill the silence." This isn't a conversation. It's just torture. I was drenched in cold sweat on the phone, despairing at my own incompetence. It's over. I'm done. My comeback story ends here.
'You don't have to force yourself to talk.' Those words saved me.
She listened intently on the other end of the line as I stammered, letting out meaningless sounds like 'uh' and 'um.' She must be bored, I thought. She must want to hang up soon. That was the moment I thought that.
Suddenly, a gentle, truly gentle laugh drifted from the other side of the phone. It wasn't a mocking laugh, but had a warm resonance, like when you find a puppy in trouble.
And then, she said this.
'Are you nervous, by any chance? It's okay, you don't have to force yourself to talk. I just wanted to hear your voice, that's all.'
Those words caused the thick armor of ice that had been wrapped around my heart to come crashing down with a clatter.
Nervous?
She knew. Of course she did. My voice was shaking so much, and I was stumbling over my words.
The more I tried to hide it, the more I was just exposing my pathetic self.
'Uh... oh, yeah. Sorry, I'm really, really nervous.'
When I admitted it honestly, the tension in my shoulders, which had been tight for so long, suddenly melted away. It felt like putting down a heavy load. I have to have a perfect conversation. I have to bring up interesting topics. I can't let there be any silence. It was the moment I was freed from the suffocating pressure I had built up all on my own.
'I see, I see. Me too, actually. I was a little nervous about talking on the phone with Kenta-kun, too.'
She was nervous, too.
That fact gave me even more peace of mind. I wasn't the only one. She, too, had been feeling a little nervous, just like me.
Hearing those words, I gently covered the notepad in front of me with my hand. Then, I quietly closed the page.
I'll stop relying on things like this. I'll stop trying to play the perfect version of myself.
I decided that I would just be my natural, nervous, clumsy, pathetic self.
The night I realized the 'true value' of a phone call
Discarding my notes, for the first time, I decided to listen intently to the sound of her voice itself.
'So, at work today, this happened. A junior colleague made a big mistake, and I had a hard time helping them fix it.'
The casual, everyday story she told.
It sounded completely different from when I read it in LINE messages.
Instead of just a string of text saying 'That sounds tough,' her voice contained a complex mix of the fatigue she felt at the time, the kindness she had for her junior colleague, and a hint of exasperation.
'But then, that junior colleague brought me some snacks, looking so apologetic, saying, "Thank you so much." It was so cute that I ended up forgiving them (laughs).'
A bouncy, gentle laugh. The small breaths heard between her words.
The gradation of her 'emotions,' which could never be conveyed through text alone, seemed to flow directly into my heart.
A 10-minute phone call made me feel much, much closer to her than 100 LINE exchanges ever could.
'So this is what a phone call is.'
As I chimed in, I was simply moved.
And before I knew it, I, too, was speaking naturally.
"That sounds tough. But that junior of yours is a good kid, too."
"Haha, that's funny. I can just picture it."
Without forcing myself to find topics, I simply listened to her and spoke my mind, and the conversation flowed naturally and warmly.
When I brought up, "I read this book the other day...", she listened intently with a "Yeah, yeah." When she said, "This band's song is really good," I could honestly say, "I'll definitely listen to it next time."
Before I knew it, the call that started as "just for a little bit" had lasted over an hour.
There were a few silences, which I had feared so much. But they were no longer awkward. They were moments where we were both comfortably thinking about what to say next. Or, they became warm moments where we could feel at ease just by being connected, even without speaking.
My Personal "Best Way to Use" LINE and Phone Calls
After this first call, which was both terrifying and moving, I learned the value of both LINE and phone calls, and how to use them appropriately.
It was a major discovery for me.
[Moments When LINE Shines]
As "Building a Foundation for a Relationship": Perfect for exploring common ground and building the basis of trust without disrupting the other person's daily rhythm.
As "Records": For confirming information you shouldn't forget, like the time and place for a date.
As "Consideration": A tool of kindness that allows you to send messages without worrying about the time, even if the other person is busy.
As "Space": Provides peace of mind when you want to think carefully before replying or choose your words.
As a "Trigger": The perfect bridge to move a relationship to the next step, by asking, "Can you talk on the phone for a bit now?"
[Moments When Phone Calls Shine]
As a "Relationship Leap": A booster to deepen the relationship all at once on the foundation built through LINE.
Sharing "Emotions": You can convey feelings like happiness, sadness, or joy directly through the tone of your voice. It communicates 100 times more than text.
Closing the "Distance": By feeling the other person's breathing and laughter, the emotional distance shrinks instantly, transcending physical distance.
Preventing "Misunderstandings": Things that might sound cold or be misinterpreted in text alone can be supplemented by nuance through voice.
Creating a "Sense of Specialness": The sentiment of "I want to hear your voice" becomes a more special message to the other person than anything else.
My conclusion is that it's not about "which is better," but that "both are great." I realized that it's important to choose the best tool depending on the situation and the feelings you want to convey at the time. Perhaps LINE is the "earth" that nurtures a relationship, and phone calls are like the "sunlight" that shines down upon it.
Conclusion: Phone calls are not scary; they are the best communication tool
To you, who feels fear toward phone calls like I used to.
It's okay. No one is asking for a perfect conversation.
You don't need funny stories or witty comebacks.
All that matters is the feeling of wanting to hear your voice and wanting to listen to what you have to say.
If you can't find the courage to call, even just five minutes is fine to start with.
Just saying 'good morning' or 'good night' is enough.
Those five minutes might make your relationship deeper and warmer than 100 LINE messages ever could.
A phone call wasn't some kind of surprise test.
It was a wonderfully warm communication tool that connects hearts, allowing you to reveal your imperfect self and accept the imperfections of the other person.
Come on, take a deep breath and try pressing that call button on your smartphone.
On the other side of that 'hello,' a new world is surely waiting for you.
Next time, I will talk about 'the small habits I kept to graduate from having no confidence.'
I will share the concrete methods I used to cultivate true composure and confidence in my daily life.
#PhonePhobia #LINEvsPhone #Communication #RelationshipWorries #OvercomingSocialAnxiety #GraduatingFromBeingUnpopular #RelationshipTurnaroundStory #Courage