He says he misses me.

He says he misses me and I shut down like a bear trap or maybe a better analogy is like a zip tie; things are good and only heading in a smooth linear direction but the words pulled at my heart and now I’m so tightly twisted up in my head knowing he’s not the one that I want and that I can’t be released without cutting myself out of this knot he’s created. 

He is not you. His touch isn’t yours. His voice doesn’t soothe my muscles more than hands ever could. I won’t kiss him because his isn’t the intimacy I want; just an answer to an itch that needs a momentary scratch. He’s a bottle of wine to make me forget whereas YOU are a bottle of wine that turns me into liquid poured into you and you into me and I don’t want to be missed by HIM. 

I want to know that some part of you longs for me too. I want to know that you also wake up and hold your breath and reach out with eyes closed searching for the warmth of me only to find an empty space where I should be.

I want to know that you too get lost in your head during menial tasks thinking about what our lives would have been like if you’d asserted your wants, YOUR desires. What if you’d confessed then what you confessed not even a year ago. What if... 

What if you just showed up at my door? What would you say? Anything? Would you slip me into your arms and just hold me? Would you feel like home? All these years I’ve just wanted to “go home” despite being in the home I’ve created for my children and what if this entire time it’s your arms that are the home I’m homesick for?

What if there were a knock at my door and it were you? Would your mouth taste the same? Would I know it’s you by the scent of your shirt with my head resting against it? Would you leave me again out of fear that you couldn’t live up to what you felt I deserved?

He says he misses me and all I want is your everything.

With my head in the clouds.

This is the start of a series of texts I send to a cell number that never responds but gets the brunt of messages that catch my breath and force me to stop what I’m doing and word vomiting. One day someone new will have this number and blush when their phone dings. So I’m posting them here in the case maybe one day the intended person stalks my stories.

Days like today it would be nice to have you here. I played in the dirt today and could feel the sweat drip down like a lazy river down my spine. I could feel your hands slip under my sundress hem as I came inside and quenched my body under the fan, the hairs at my neck coiling up at the nape and temple. Your hand would grip my ass as you blew cool air on my neck sending goosebumps down the length of me. I'm sitting in my truck recalling what could have been not even an hour ago. The girl I used to be, that belonged to your heart, she longs for the you that you once were. Longing for him is what keeps me safe from settling again on situations that aren't deserving of me. So thank you... even though I'll never get a response, this is therapeutic in its own way getting all these daydreams out.