Living Life

The Call That Was Never Made

" I wanted to call him just to see how he's doing. Or text him to see if he'd reply" I said. But you can't do that. You can't expect the person who broke your heart to fix it. You can't talk to someone who got you to open up, and then acted as if you meant nothing.

" I wanted to ask him how was it easy. How was it so easy for him to forget me whilst I'm still here remembering" I said. I wanted to know if he felt the nausea when he saw me with another guy. Or how he got over the pain of knives in his chest; if he ever felt them. Did he ever feel lonely when listening to music that reminded him of me? Was he even reminded? Did he miss the memories we made or were they just another day to him.

 I wanted to say I couldn't remember the look he'd give me that made me blush anymore, the way he would say my name, or rub my head until I felt tired. Which is sad because I knew those things to me had been oh so important.  I knew our last kiss wasn't anything like the movies, and it made me rethink my whole love of fairy tales and belief in happy endings. It was so brief and I wanted to commit it to memory and yet it was fading, but maybe it was for the best. In the time that memory faded from my mind I as a whole probably faded from his. I wanted to say that now I second guessed everything. He told me many reasons why he wanted to stay and yet when he left, I could only question if those things were true; why weren't they enough...

So my god I wanted to call him, wanted to text him, wanted to see him. Yet instead I sat on the floor throwing back liquor like it was water. To be honest I can't be sure if what I felt for him was love, but then again I do suppose you have to be in love to miss them that much. It hurts; it fucking physically hurts to miss them.