I really want to text you.
Every fiber of my being itches to reach out to you, to talk with you, to catch up with you.
But even though I wish I could pick up the phone, even though I hope for us to feel simple again, I know I absolutely shouldn’t listen to my heart.
I should disconnect. I should savor the silence. I should let you go and never look back.
But, there’s something pulling me back to you; a force stronger than lust, a current more powerful than love. It’s an insatiable urge; an itch I need to scratch, a full-fledged obsession.
Pure, unadulterated curiosity.
I’m dying to know where we stand.
In the furthest reaches of my mind, I’m constantly wondering if you truly understand that we could never work. Our differences overpower our similarities, smothering any chance we have. You cling to the idea of love; I escape. You fall in love immediately; I test the waters. You lavish affection; I reserve my expressions of love. I’ve noticed every sign that we could never be together; you’ve believed in the possibility of us.
Do you still believe that we have a future, or can you see that we aren’t meant for each other? Do you still have feelings for me, or have you given up on your star-crossed fantasy? Do you finally understand the sense of desperation that drove us apart, or are you still stuck in an unending cycle of constant pining?
The unanswered questions haunt me, pressuring me to send you something, anything. I find myself unsuccessfully searching for the solution to the riddle, the missing piece of the puzzle. Only you can resolve the mystery of us, only you can end the story. Without you, I’m lost; directionless, lusting after a resolution just like you’ve lusted after me.
I know that if I cave in to my lingering whim, the promise of answers, we will never end. I will continue to gingerly dance around the fire, narrowly skirting the rising flames of your love, while you rescue me, hailing yourself as a hero as I try to escape from you. You will fall for me again, but I will fall for your love alone. We will find ourselves high off our own toxicity, so blissfully enraptured in our own feelings that we can no longer see the truth: We were never meant to be.
I really want to text you, even though I know I shouldn’t.
My heart screams “yes;” my mind whispers “no;” and I am once again caught between passion and reason; between us as we are and us as we should be. I’ll resist the temptation to text you. I’ll put down the phone. But I’ll never stop searching for the solution to our riddle, the missing piece of our puzzle, the resolution to the mystery of us.
Previously published on Thought Catalog.
Featured Photo by Andrik Langfield on Unsplash.
