It’s 2 A.M. And I’m Thinking Of You

It’s 2 a.m. and the bartender has called last call. I know the saying “nothing good happens after 2 a.m.” I know I should go home, yet I find myself drifting to thoughts of you.

I can’t help but wonder if tipsy you ever thinks of me.

And just like that, I find myself texting you.

Hey – you up?”

It is the simplest of texts, yet at 2 a.m. it holds an entirely different meaning.

I know I should call my Uber, yet I find myself walking the too familiar path to your place. You haven’t even responded, but I already know how this plays out.

And just like that, my phone lights up. It’s a text from you. My mind is telling me to stop. It’s begging me to put my phone away, yet my fingers refuse to listen.

Hey, yeah, I just got back. Come over?”

I’m just a couple of blocks away.” I write back. “I’ll see you in a few.”

What is it about 2 a.m. that makes us make the poorest of decisions?

I head over and it’s the same old story. No small talk is needed—we’re way past that now. It’s just a string of clumsy drunk moments: our lips kiss, our clothes fly everywhere.

I know I shouldn’t crave this, yet it feels so damn easy.

And just like that, I’m lying in your arms, our legs still intertwined, and damn, it feels like home.

But I know it’s not my place to stay, I can’t get too comfortable; we all know how this plays out.

So, I kiss your lips goodnight, I call my Uber, and I leave during the quietest of nights.

I tell myself I’m going to stop; I deserve something more.

But we all know that’s a lie.

It’s 2 a.m. I’m all alone, thinking of you. TC mark

About the author
Full Time Techie, Part Time Blogger, Amateur Adult, circa 1992. Follow Priya on Instagram or read more articles from Priya on Thought Catalog.

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