Abruptly you reached out and just as quickly, you turned away. Silent exits are your specialty and missing you is mine. Two years older and I am still trying to make sense of it all. The way we’d dance around each other and the doors that would slam shut on our unspoken feelings. How I tried to reach out, but you were pulled away by God knows what and I was left to pick up the pieces. Two years clean, but my heart still aches when I catch a glimpse of your face. And I still count the time by how long it’s been since I last saw you. You messaged me four nights ago and my hopes shot up so high they’ve not come down since. Though, once again we found ourselves dancing around each other and putting up walls draped with polite conversation. I wanted so badly to tear those walls down but you drifted away before I got the chance and gentle but firm arms kept me from running after you. Leaving me with a mind filled to the brim with things left unsaid and hands grasping for answers to shed light on your sudden and violent change of heart. Did it hurt you to talk to me? Do you believe me to be so disenchanted with you that you figured you could walk away with no disclosure and without a second glance? But, what you can’t see is the dull ache that has made its home in my chest ever since I met you, and how it has blossomed and blossomed each time I’ve had to let go of you. You can’t see the way your name is etched into the back of my mind , and how your face frequents my dreams. If only we could get on the same page. But, we are both reaching, and always missing. Pulled away by our own misconceptions and each too haunted by the memory of each other. What could have been sings us its relentless tune, but the hushed song of hope is what I strain to listen to.