Writing the thing I am most afraid to write

Do I ever cross your mind, even in passing? Or am I the only one lost in these thoughts, caught between what was and what could have been?

I wonder if you ever get curious about me, the way I do about you. 

If you ever find yourself staring at nothing, lost in a memory, wondering how I’ve been, what I’m doing, if I’m still the same. Because, God, I do that all the time. I catch myself thinking of you in the quiet moments, in between tasks, in the middle of conversations where your name never comes up—but I still hear it in my head.

I guess I just miss you. More than I should. More than I want to admit.

And it’s ridiculous, isn’t it? I don't want anything to be more than what we were because I know it’s even wrong to begin with and I respect that. You were just someone I crossed paths with and left a trace, someone who unknowingly cares and notices the little things about me — someone I admired.

Maybe it’s just the mind playing tricks, holding onto things it shouldn’t.

Maybe I just wonder if you’re still the same, maybe I just want to hear more about your days.

Maybe I just want to know I wasn’t forgotten as easily as I sometimes fear.

Maybe I just want a sign—anything—that I also mattered.

God, help me—I’m drowning in these thoughts, and I don’t know how to make them stop.

***

Writing this just to get it all out of my head. Aaaah I think for my own sake I should stop speaking in metaphors