I get to a certain time of night where I’m stuck… stuck thinking about you, and afraid to go to sleep because I know the deliriousness of my exhaustion will resurrect you in my dreams. I’m stuck in that place where I can’t escape you. Where I forget all the reasons I hate you and remember only the reasons to miss you, the reasons why I should call you…
but I am stronger now. Stronger than the last time I was stuck here. Strong enough to stop myself. To remember that I don’t want that. You. That I don’t want to be stuck here again in the future.
I want to know that you are stuck too. Stuck missing me. Stuck regretting that you brought us to this point. This point where we can’t even be friends. Where we don’t even talk. Where we never will again. I want to know that you are stuck thinking about me, worrying about me, aching over how you
could have should have done things differently. I want to know you are stuck replaying it in your head. The choices you made. The lies. The hurt.
I want to know that you dream about me. And that it makes you sick. That you want it to go away. I want to know that you want me, and all our memories, to disappear.
Because then I won’t feel so guilty for feeling that way too.