I Wonder If You Ever Think About Me — Because I Still Think About You

I wonder if you think of me when you’re wasted and can no longer see straight. If you drunkenly admit to your friends how much you miss me. If you get this close to breaking your silence and sending a text.

I wonder if you think of me when you drive past the diner we used to grab food from late at night. If you ever eat there with other girls or a group of friends and glance over at the table we shared.

I wonder if you think of me when you’re flipping through channels and one of the shows we watched together comes on. If you hear certain lines and remember how I laughed there and asked a question here.

I wonder if you think of me when your phone beeps, when you get a Facebook notification, when you get an Instagram like. I wonder if you hope for a split second that it’s me, that I’m back, that I’m touching base with you again.

I wonder if you think of me when you’re walking around town and run into one of the friends we used to share or the guys we used to work with. If you walk over to them and strike up a conversation. If you ever bring up my name, if you ever ask about me.

I wonder if you think of me when you get exciting news or shitty news. If you have the urge to call me and tell me about what happened. If you wish I was still around to talk to about whatever bullshit was on your mind.

I wonder if you think of me when you visit a store or a bar near my house. If you wait for me to walk through the door next. If you hope I run into you.

I wonder if you think of me when a song comes on by my favorite band. When you eat my favorite candy or watch my favorite actor. When you see a dog that looks like mine or a girl with the same hair color as mine.

I wonder if you think of me when you watch a sex scene in a movie or spot two people kissing across the room. If you miss flirting with me, if you miss the way we used to tease each other.

I wonder if you think of me when you reach out to hold someone else’s hand at the cinema. When you lean in to kiss someone else’s lips in the park. When you’re in the middle of sex and close your eyes, free to imagine someone you used to know.

I wonder if you think of me when it’s late at night and you can’t fall asleep. I wonder if you wonder what I’m doing and where I am and whether I still think about you.

I wonder if I’m still in your head, because even after all this time, somehow you’re still stuck in mine. 

Holly Riordan is the author of
Severe(d), A Creepy Poetry Collection.
Order your copy here.