Not talking to him kills me.
But I’ve sort of made up my mind to try and forget about him. He’s so busy with NS and friends he will never have any time for me even if it’s just to text or call.
I miss his texts, even those one-word answers. I miss waiting for his calls and falling asleep then apologizing the next day. I miss his low, soft voice because his parents don’t know. I miss his snoring on the phone while I rambled on and on and got annoyed at him. I miss making weird noises, shouting into the phone and then texting him to wake up, and I miss his reaction to his text tone and the frantic scramble to check his phone. I miss telling him to go and sleep and his insistent to stay on the phone, only to fall asleep again. I miss having to force him to go to sleep because he has church at 8AM and it would be about 5AM. I miss saying goodnight to him. I miss forcing him out of his room to come and hang out with Nat and I. I miss spotting him randomly on the streets and texting him, “EH I SAW YOU.” I miss his horrible dancing. I miss his excellent guitar skills. I miss his horrible singing voice. I miss his tainted face. I miss his squishy arms. I miss his dented chest. I miss his short stature. I miss his obliviousness. I miss the way we talked about our future, together. I miss planning my Australia trip to his future apartment. I miss his late night visits to my room. I miss his complains that he had nothing to do. I miss him falling asleep on my bed. I miss him pulling me into his embrace when I fought back. I miss his kiss. I miss the way he lets me sleep in his arms.
I. Miss. Him.
It would be great to be able to know what he’s thinking. I want to know if he looks back at the memories we shared. Even if we aren’t actually together, we act like lovers when we’re alone. I don’t even need to know if he likes me anymore. I just want to know if he thinks of those times, if he thinks of me at all as more than a close friend and neighbour.
And I just want to tell you
It takes everything in me not to call you
And I wish I could run to you
And I hope you know that
Everytime I don’t,
I almost do, I almost do
We made quite a mess, babe
It’s probably better off this way
And I confess, babe
That in my dreams you’re touching my face
And asking me if I want to try again with you
And I almost do
– Taylor Swift