Dodging Bullets. Firing Squad. Ready- Aim- Disarm:

AT 8:44am, I received a call from someone.
I knew who it was, I saw their name come up on the screen, perplexed to say the least.
More so was their confusion, when I answered the phone.
"Alex?"
"Yes."
"Hey, uh, this is ------- -------
-uh... I'm sorry I dialed the wrong number. I'm sorry about that, I-- I'll see you later."
Okay.
(abbreviated, and abridged version)
Any way.
I think I know why you were calling. There's only one of two reasons, and especially, due to your surprise and apologies felt.
Either, I'm the first person in your alphabetical call log, and you called me by mistake-
OR
you called me because you were looking for someone else, that you always confuse me with. I am her, she is me, etc.
If you were calling for her- well- I know what you were calling about.
Did you know I read your face? Every Thursday night when I see you- I look at you- I
try to read between the lines- your face is red- are you stressed? Are you distraught?
You look stressed, you look worried- is it internal pain registering on your face, or are
you just tired from a long day's work?
*So far, it's only ever been the latter of those. Which is good I guess.
But each time, I feel like I'm walking up to the firing squad. Whose name are they going to call this time?
*Each night, as the announcements get closer and closer, my heart wildly palpitates, and my face grows flush. Splits seconds I cry, I mourn, I am in anguish, and then the kettle's flame receeds, and my face is cool once more. Until the first part dismisses. And then we sing. My words falter and squeak. I can't get out the words, and the message tears at my heart. We stop. I close up my book and fall to my chair, crumpling in my seat like I pile of dirty laundry. Here it comes. I just know it this time. I look back at you to see what your face will tell me. I can't tell. "Well, friends, we have a couple of announcements this evening..." Oh god here it comes. And quickly, it fades, and we move on to the first part. [of the second half].
Thank god it's over. I did not get picked. My name was not called. Or, Rather,
Your name was not called. I can calm down and settle in again.
I am angry and yet releaved at the same time. Such a tease, and yet such a sigh of relief. Human emotion is such a dirty game to play. All the blood, sweat, and tears poured out on behalf of it, or rather, in its name. Dirty tricks we play.
Well, another bullet dodged, for another day.
Unfortunately, it's still got to be only a matter of time. And that's what sucks. If he called you today, that's what's going on. Another bullet, another day...