I Know It’s Selfish, But I Hope You Still Think Of Me


You drift through my mind on occasion. Often it happens in the most unexpected of moments—like walking home from the gym and seeing a car that looks identical to the one you used to drive, or when I’m on the highway and a song switches on shuffle, or as I drift into a dream and there you are, looking so different and yet still completely the same.

I never know what to do when I’m reminded of you.

A part of me wants to pick up the phone and call you, wants to text you, wants to write you a handwritten letter and mail it to the address I’ll forever have tucked in the corner of my mind.

I want to tell you that I’m thinking about you, nothing more and nothing less. I’m always scared to admit too much, to open doors I’m not ready to open, to make promises I can’t keep.

So I’d write to you. If I had the guts.

But I don’t.

I let the thought of you spin in my mind for a little, making me wonder about where you are or if you’re in love with someone else or if you think about me in random moments, too. I want to know if you’re thousands of breaths and unsent text messages away, doing the same thing—staring at your phone wondering if you should tell me that I’m on your mind.

I hope you are.

I hope you miss me when you least expect it. When you’re doing something stupid and suddenly you’re reminded of that silly face I’d make when you’d tell me I was beautiful. I hope you’re cooking dinner and you remember how much I loved making my favorite recipes for you. I hope you’re humming in the shower and you can’t stop thinking about the way my singing voice used to sound.

I know it’s selfish, but I hope there’s still a part of you that wonders about me.

That even though we’re miles and months apart, you find yourself staring at something that reminds you of me, twirling it between your fingers, fighting with your heart to call me.

I don’t want you to call. Well, that’s a lie. But I only want you to call if you want you, because your heart wins and you can’t imagine not hearing the sound of my voice.

But if you don’t call, it’s okay. I just want to know that I’m still on your mind sometimes. That what we had mattered. That what we had was real, even though time has passed and it feels like you’ve forgotten. Or that you were pretending all along.

I know it’s selfish, but I hope you miss me sometimes.

That it wasn’t as easy for you to forget as it seems. That wherever you are, your heart pounds when you’re reminded of me.

And that it takes all your strength not to tell me that yes, you still care. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

Marisa is a writer, poet, & editor. She is the author of Somewhere On A Highway, a poetry collection on self-discovery, growth, love, loss and the challenges of becoming.

Keep up with Marisa on Instagram, Twitter, Amazon and marisadonnelly.com

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