for the boy i had to let go

two

even my phone misses your call/maybe one day you'll call me and tell me that you're sorry too/but you...you never do

i still have the poem you wrote me.

the one you used to tell me you loved me.

i still have it. it's one of the many things of ours i have yet to delete. i can't bring myself to.

i finally deleted our text conversation the other day. it was on my old phone, so i never really looked at it by virtue of not using that thing anymore.

but it still took me four months to go back and delete that conversation.

i don't know what it is.

i never looked at it. i did, occasionally. but my god, we texted so much that i honestly became tired of scrolling back up. we texted so much even when we were being "friends" after i broke up with you that it hurt too much to scroll past all of that.

but i still had it saved.

something about having these things here, even if i don't look at them, is comforting.

something now about having your number unblocked just in case you might need me is comforting.

just in case you might call.

just in case you might text me.

just in case you might check on me.

even if i know you never will. i know that in my head. my heart doesn't want to believe it.

i could be cliché and say, "i miss you like hell. come back."

and if i did, i wouldn't care. it's the truth.

i miss you like hell.

i know i messed things up.

i know i was difficult from the beginning.

i know i'm the one who ended things.

i know i'm the one who did that.

and i'm sorry.

i'm so sorry.

come back.

please.