I Almost Texted You Today

God & Man

I almost texted you today.

I almost asked you how you were doing or what you were up to on Saturday night. I almost told you how I heard that one song on the radio and how it made me think of you and wondered if you’d heard it too. I almost wrote out a message saying how much I missed you, a pixelated confession laced with nostalgia and longing as if any of my words would make some kind of difference.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I closed my phone, threw it on my bed, and walked away.

What do you do with someone who you share so much history with but no future? What do you do when things end with words left unsaid, with feelings left unmended?

I think the correct answer is nothing at all, but I’ve never been good at letting things be. I’ve never been very good at letting go.

And so, I write pieces like this.

I’m not sure when things got so bad between us. The timeline is jagged and it’s hard to keep up with the trajectory of our downfall. But it’s something like this:

A late summer bonfire. Birthdays. Christmas. New Year’s. St. Patrick’s Day. Canada. Unreturned texts. New apartments. Sitting opposite of one another on your bed while I told you what I felt and you letting me down gently. Dancing together, leaving the bar. Fighting. Time apart. Hoping we’re gonna be okay. Accepting that we might not be. So much to say and unsure when or where to start.

It’s funny how things can change so rapidly, as though years never actually happened and promises of sticking around no longer mean shit. Because you said you weren’t going anywhere, and even though I still believe you, it’s not you I’m worried about.

It’s me. I don’t think I can stay.

Too much has happened. 

Which brings me to now, a day when I almost texted you, but I quickly remembered that I no longer have a reason to.

I don’t think there’s anything left to say. TC mark

Molly Burford

Writer. Editor. Hufflepuff. Dog person.

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You look back and you just feel stupid.
You can’t forgive yourself for falling
or believing all the lies.
You reread every text.
You relive every memory.
And it all starts making sense —
he never wanted love.
He only wanted attention.
He only wanted validation.

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