Midnight conversations

I try not to get disappointed but at 12:02 am I have this overwhelming feeling that the wrong person is answering my messages.

 And I didn't notice until now because he said he had to go to sleep but we would stay up until five, sleep an hour and then go to school the next day. 

When he calls me love it doesn't sound as sweet. 

And I just want to yell at you to put down your petty drugs because I will be enough of a vice for you tonight and I don't care if you are the same person anyways in the morning . 

I know it won't matter because even if I mustered up the courage you wouldn't listen. Even when I asked to be your friend though that was the last thing I wanted to do you wouldn't listen . 

I just want to kiss you again. 

We had achieved the most ultimate form of intimacy and that has nothing to do with sex and everything to do with each other. 

I memorized the lines in your hand and the sound of your voice and the way your eyes crinkled up when you smiled and how you shook your leg when you were nervous and when you furrowed your eyebrows when you concentrated. 

I remember the way you smell and what your favorite movie is and that you can differentiate caramel from caramel flavored taffy and that you really like orange juice which is strange because I hate the taste. 

I remember how your voice sounds when you sing and you're nervous but how it got less shaky when you started singing to me more and how you got excited when I sang to you as well. 

You never really liked church but because I insisted we go, you went. 

You've never really been coordinated in dancing but because I wanted to you'd try your best to stay on beat and keep the rhythm. 

I have all these memories that I don't know what to do with. 

And I see things and I think of you and I hear one lyric and it sets me off , it sucks and I want to text you or try to talk every day and maybe one time I actually did text you but you didn't have my new number so instead of responding I froze and deleted the messages. 

Because I can write novels about your cracked perfection but when I try to tell you it never came out. 

Nothing came out...

I made a home in you because you were so beautiful only I forgot to appreciate you. I'm sorry. 

So to answer your question Friend, yes, I know how it feels to be forgotten. 

I know you didn't want a whole story but here it came out anyways. 

I miss him. And I'm so sorry.