When Your Anxiety Is Getting The Best Of You, Read This

I Miss Texting My ‘Almost’

I miss the looks you gave me from across rooms that no one else noticed except me, the looks that told me you were just as interested in me as I was interested in you.

I miss the rush in my stomach when your name appeared on my phone with a cute text about how badly you wanted to see me, about how you were free all weekend, about how you thought it had been way too long since we hung out one-on-one.

I miss the feeling of your shoulder brushing up against mine on ‘accident’ except it wasn’t an accident because you kept it there the same way you kept your leg pressed against mine. We never acknowledged how much we touched, but we found a million excuses to get closer. We play fought. We grabbed at each other. We compared hand sizes. We cuddled.

A part of me even misses the mixed signals you would send. I miss staying up until two in the morning, texting my friends about how confusing you were and trying to figure out why you would act so flirtatious with me one day and then drop out of my world the next day. I miss listening to songs that reminded me of you because you were the one who showed me them, songs that you might be listening to at the same exact time with some other girl you liked better than me.

I miss you, in general. Your eyes. Your lips. Your laugh.

I hate the way it is now. I am too nervous to pick up the phone and type out a message to you because I know I am not going to get a response. Even if you answer back within minutes, within seconds, you won’t be joking around with me the way you used to do. You will talk with forced politeness. You will treat me like a perfect stranger instead of the person you stayed up past midnight swapping secrets with, the person you kissed dead on the lips, the person you almost dedicated yourself to before changing your mind.

I hate how fate could bring us together in a grocery store or a shopping mall but I wouldn’t even know what to do. I wouldn’t know whether to hug you close the way we used to do or whether to give you a friendly nod and then move on with my day. I have no idea how you feel about me now. I don’t even know if you would remember much about me. You might have forgotten all of the memories I have been holding close to my heart, afraid to release.

I might mean nothing to you now — but then again, maybe I meant nothing to you then too.

I hate how much distance has grown between us, because even though I realize we are never going to get together, I miss talking to you. I miss having you around as part of my world. Even if it was only as a friend. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

About the author

Holly is the author of Severe(d): A Creepy Poetry Collection.

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