Habits

I couldn't help it, you were becoming the worst sort of habit to me. I would see your name pop up and I would feel a sort of temporary relief. It was never enough.

I had to remind myself that we hadn't talked in weeks. It seemed like we talked every day, with the way I thought about you and went over past conversations in my mind. On special occasions, I even practiced out things that I wanted to say to you whenever the time is right. If I didn't practice, I didn't get it right. I knew you would see me as another girl you reeled in and worked your magic with. I was determined to stand out. I was going to be the right mix of everything. Outgoing, but cool. Talkative, but coy. Attractive, but humble.

I went through pictures of you and imagined you in those places. In some of them you were smiling, and I imagined that someone had told you a joke- instead of it being posed. I liked to imagine you were spontaneous. Some of them you seemed more distant. I could see where the shine wasn't in your eyes- the one that you get when you're onto something. You hid behind a veil when you were thinking and needed to process. I looked at your face and remembered every line and dimple. I couldn't help but let my gaze fall on your eyes. You didn't believe me when I claimed they were beautiful.

I looked down at my fingertips. They kept calling me to say something to you. Begging to bridge the gap. Give in to the temptation to be the first to say something. Say everything to him that had been on your mind. Like old times.

I looked up and saw that your name was no longer there. Another day passes and the silence grows longer. Some habits die hard.

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~Bridget Nicole