I didn’t talk to you today.
I made the decision partially because I wanted to see if you would reach out when I didn’t; and partially to see if I could actually go a day without interacting with you at all.
I did well distracting myself and keeping occupied.
You never really left the back of my mind but I wasn’t dwelling on it.
I convinced myself I was successful until about 15 minutes ago when I scrolled past a meme.
It was picture of a man with tattoos on his arms working on some type of project.
There was almost no resemblance to you at all other than the tattoos and yet it sent me down this irreversible train of thought.
Now I can’t sleep until I write to you.
You matter too much to me.
I care too much about what you think and how my actions make you feel.
I ache missing your arms around me when I shouldn’t even really know what it feels like to be in them.
You are my thought when am thinking about “nothing”
I smile when I remember our silly interactions or the things you’ve said to make me laugh when I’m frustrated and fuming.
We had this bizarre connection right from the start.
You quickly became one of my best friends and our similarities are endless.
Then of course there’s the other thing…
An obvious chemistry that both of us felt but neither of us really knew what to do with.
Now I’m here at almost midnight on a Monday when I should be asleep, with a pit in my stomach because I’ve come to this point.
Where are we?
What are we?
Friends I know but I’m terrified by how much of a hold you have on my heart.
You know me so well.
Honestly I would venture to say better than most if not all of the other people closest to me.
You know my secret fears and the cracked timid woman that lives just below the surface of the confident person most people see.
I don’t like that you can almost read my mind.
It’s too vulnerable.
I can too easily be hurt.
And you could hurt me.
So much about this love could literally crush everything not just for me but for both of us.
And I don’t know what I would do at this point if everything really did stop.
If I honestly couldn’t speak to you anymore.
The thought makes my throat catch.
My eyes well up.
I miss you after one fucking day.
I miss you and it hurts.
And this is dramatic and extreme and I don’t care because this is the only place that I can say any of this.
And I know that when I do see you again it won’t matter that I feel completely on the edge of insanity because you will speak to me and I will be yours again for whatever moments we have.
Your voice flows over me and around me and travels from my ears through my body. You disarm me completely.
I want desperately to believe that I mean as much to you. That your waking thoughts are filled with the conundrum that is “us” but while so much of our relationship has made my wishful thoughts realities I don’t think that you feeling the same is one of them.
I know you care about me.
I know I mean something to you and that we are friends.
But I don’t think I knock the wind out of you and make you rethink everything the way you do for me on an almost daily basis.
In some world you get to see this letter and you hold me and tell me I’m crazy.
We are each other’s and nothing is messy and no one gets hurt.
We laugh and I fall asleep on your chest listening to you breathe.
Instead of in my bed alone dreaming of you while he sleeps downstairs.
I didn’t talk to you today.