I thought I had forgotten what you sound like. It’s been a year. But last night, when you called me up at 2:48 AM, I knew it was you even before you could finish that ‘hello’. Did you finish that hello? I do not know.
There was so much to say. I wanted to ask how you were. Do you miss me? Even when you’re sober? Do you still love me? Did you ever? It’s been a year.
So instead I just held my breath and my tears and pretended like my heart wasn’t going to explode with the weight of every love letter we ever wrote to each other. It’s been 1 year and I swear I tried to speak but the words didn’t come out I swear. I swear I tried. We both did.
You didn’t say anything either and the silence between us somehow felt heavier than the weight of all the glaciers combined. You weren’t cover and I felt like I was drowning in an ocean of unsaid words, the stings from which I still find on my skin every now and then.
I tried to move on, and It’s been 1 God damn year. But at every random phone call, I still find myself hoping that it’s you. Even if it’s some drunk version of the guy I once knew.
It’s been 1 year and trust me, I still remember, even the sound of your breath.
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