At first, you caught me off guard when you replied to a message I had sent long ago. I smiled. For a moment, I felt a quiet happiness seeing your name and your face light up my phone again.

But as reality slowly settled in, the texts, the way you spoke to me, the distance in your replies, I realized something I didn’t want to admit…we are strangers again.

Before my stupid feelings had the chance to rise to the surface, before you could see what was inside of me, I took the opportunity to say what I never managed to say before. I apologized. In the longest message imaginable, because the truth is… I didn’t want to stop talking to you. Even if it was only through a few lines of text.

At least now, in this lifetime, you know.

And I don’t regret it. I don’t regret telling you that I miss you. That I love you. Even if you don’t feel anything for me anymore. It’s okay. At least we said the things that lived beneath the skin. I guess part of me hoped that maybe, somehow, we could rewrite the story, but then again, reality wins.

But I won’t lie to myself either.

I truly, stupidly, hoped to hear you say you were sorry too. That you missed me. That somewhere in this universe there was still something like us. That you had been loving me all this time, waiting for me the same way I…

Well. I know. It’s foolish.

I won’t bother you again. I genuinely wish you the best in this life. Please take care of yourself.

And don’t forget to drink enough water, please.

Closure