I’m Always *This Close* To Talking To You Again
I shouldn’t be curious about your love life. I shouldn’t wonder how you’ve been doing without me and daydream about what would happen if we ever ran into each other again. I shouldn’t still be thinking about you. I know that.
There’s no reason for me to care about how your life has been going. To check up on you.
That’s why I hold myself back for as long as I can, but eventually, I give into temptation. I end up looking through the old texts you sent me, scrolling through the new pictures you posted online, flipping through memories I’d stored in the back of my mind.
I think of all of the reasons why I want to talk to you, why I want you back in my life. And then I think of all of the reasons why reaching out to you wouldn’t be big of a deal.
I tell myself that saying hello wouldn’t mean a thing. That it’s completely harmless. That it won’t lead to anything. After all, it’s just a text message. It’s just a few words. It’s just a harmless conversation with someone I used to know.
But then I have to remind myself that a isn’t just a . Even the shortest text to you would be like opening a door and letting you back into my life. It would be like admitting that I missed you more than you missed me. It would be like handing you my heart and giving you the chance to hurt me all over again.
When it comes to anyone else, a text is innocent. Casual. No big deal. It doesn’t mean a thing. There’s no reason to analyze it.
But if you saw my name on your phone (if it’s even still your phone), it would be out of the ordinary. Out of the blue. You would wonder why I’m contacting you after spending so long ignoring you — and then guess that I must be interested again. That I must be hung up on you after all this time.
Even though I’m always close to reaching out to you, even though I’m dying to talk to you, the rational part of me refuses to let that happen. I was already hurt by you once before. I can’t go through that again. I don’tto go through that again.
That’s why you haven’t heard from me, even though you’re still on my mind. Even though I miss you more than I can stand. Even though I wonder if there’s any possible way that we could ever make things work.
In the past, I have forced myself to erase the message I was planning on sending you. To throw my phone across the room instead of making a call. To delete your name from my contact list.
I have done everything I can to keep myself away from you — because I know that you are in my past for a reason. Because you belong there.