You know, I almost called the other night. Almost. I’d like to think that you would’ve almost picked up, and I would’ve almost said something. It’s a good thing I’ve almost lost your number; I could get lonely someday and forget that you almost wanted to stay. I forget a lot nowadays. I almost called the other night, you know. But I’ve learned that “almost” only counts in “I love you’s” and “goodbye’s”. Maybe I’ll almost sleep tonight. It’s strange that I keep dreaming about the night we walked around the city. I always end up on the park bench by your house, waiting. I’ve almost stopped wishing you’d show up.