3/1/2024 0 Comments lovesickmorena (she/her) I had hoped this feeling would get better with time. Unfortunately for me, I was still awake at 3am, waiting for a phone call that would never actually come. Just waiting for someone to need me again. No, not need. But want me again. Someone who would willingly choose to be with me. God, I miss having someone to hold this late. Someone to hold me, rather. It’s the silence that always gets to me. This apartment is so goddamn quiet. . . . I wonder what he’s doing right now. How is work going anyways? I always wonder if I shouldn’t have left. Then I could be right by his side. Instead of drowning in my thoughts alone, I could be right next to him; working alongside my best friend. No, it wouldn’t have worked out. . . still, what if it did? I could feel safe right now, buried in his arms. Cuddling after work, just the two of us. Finally the voices in my head would be quiet. That’s the good kind of silence, not whatever I’m suffering in right now. Could you imagine? The two of us, on a long road trip across the country. Just the two of us, my head on your shoulder as you drive into the night. I would look out and admire the stars. Then I would look up at you and feel okay again. You would smile at me and I would smile back as I drifted to sleep. For once silence wouldn’t sound so bad. It might even be peaceful. Safe. . . . I wonder what she’s doing right now. I wonder if she was able to fall asleep, or if she’s also restless tonight. Maybe she also dreams of something that never actually happened. In another life, maybe we could’ve been something. Imagine our friends smiling knowingly at us, knowing that two people could not be more in love than we were. Just the two of us, holding hands as we walk to class. Laughing together as we inevitably spill our morning coffee all over ourselves. In our defense, we shouldn’t be awake that early anyways. In a perfect world, we would stay in bed, wrapped up in each other until after the sun rose, shining through our window. I would look over at her and realize how lucky I am. I would hold her tighter as we drifted back to sleep. . . . But none of this was real. Maybe it could’ve been. In another time, maybe. Another universe? I’m not really sure. Maybe some other version of me is happy. Right by his side. Or holding her hand. Or with someone else entirely. Or maybe it’s too late at night to be writing about these things. Too late to focus on little moments that could have been more. Or maybe I’m just
lovesick
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