I Miss Your Mixed Signals

Back when we were trapped inside our almost relationship that should have became something but never did, I hated your mixed signals. I wished you would have been straightforward with me so I didn’t have to pull answers out of you. I hated waiting for your texts. Waiting for invitations over. Waiting for attention. Waiting for you to like me back.

But now that you’re gone, I miss everything about you. Even the mixed signals.

I miss the nights when I sat cross-legged on the bed, phone plugged into the wall, my fingers tapping out messages to you. I miss the nerves that shot through my veins whenever you took too long to answer me and I was stuck wondering whether I screwed up, whether I said something too flirtatious or too sarcastic or too boring.

I miss the anticipation of wondering whether you were going to pay attention to me on any given day or whether you were going to leave me disappointed. I miss the drumbeat in my stomach, warning me not to grow too attached to you even though I knew it was already too late, I was already smitten.

I miss your mixed signals because I miss having something to be excited about, something to look forward to throughout the entire week. I miss the feeling of my heart beating hard inside my throat. I miss the uncertainty of whether you would flirt back with me — because whenever you did, my day was made. Whenever you did, I felt like all of the stress had been worth it, just for that moment with you.

I miss feeling. I miss when this numbness, this antiseptic on my heart, was eclipsed by emotion. I miss the highs and the lows because they made me feel alive. Back when we were together — if that’s even the right word — each breath felt like I was gulping down air and now those same breaths feel like I’m sipping in static. Like I’m just going through the motions. Like I am existing instead of erupting.

I miss having something, someone, to care about more than myself. I miss the irrationality of my feelings. I miss the intensity of small actions like holding your hand or hugging your waist or smelling the scent of your cologne.

I miss you. I miss the way you kept me guessing. I miss how I could never tell exactly what was running through your mind. I miss being surprised. Everything you said was unexpected. No words were pre-planned. You were spontaneous. You were shocking. You were different in a world overflowing with same.

I miss memories that I have no business missing. Toxic ones. Ones where you made me cry, made me complain, made me secretly hate myself. I shouldn’t miss those moments but I do because I must have really liked you to have those kind of reactions.

I miss your missed signals because at least they were something. They were better than this silence. This absence. This hole that you have drilled into my concrete heart.


Related Articles

Back to top button