You used to call me back immediately even if it was just a butt dial I didn’t intend for.
You used to answer texts so quickly I never questioned it.
You used to blow up my phone and news feed. Your name was always my favorite to see.
Your compliments were always genuine and sometimes I wondered if you noticed me blushing.
Most guys wouldn’t notice something so small like me doing my hair differently or changing my makeup or if I dressed differently.
You used to invite me places and always be on time.
You used to be every text in the morning and my favorite way to start a day.
I knew in those moments to be grateful. Something in me could feel this would end. How sad it is to live in a moment you know you are going to miss, so you cling as tightly to it as you can hoping it could last just a bit longer.
You used to meet me completely halfway that I never had to try.
You used to say thank you and actually be grateful and surprised and what seemed like happy every time I did something.
You used to love me.
Then suddenly there was a shift.
You stopped saying thank you and started expecting things.
When things were reciprocated, it wasn’t out of being genuine but rather a sense of obligation like you had to.
You stopped answering quickly then it turned into not at all.
I sat there fumbling to find words in hopes you’d respond.
I sat there staring at my phone that was supposed to connect us but it made me feel more distant.
And I look back at the past hoping maybe I’ll find something there. A reason for a shift or a change.
Sometimes I wonder if I’ve begun to annoy you.
And as much as I want to try harder, I don’t want to push you further away than you already are.
So I stay mute hoping in this silence you’ll miss me like I have you, even when you’re standing right next to me. The truth is, it hurts like hell missing the ghost of who someone used to be.
You used to tell me everything. These days it feels like I’m missing something. Like I’m out of the loop.
So I try a little too hard and overcompensate hoping maybe you notice.
I dress up a little more hoping to feel a little less invisible.
I’m tiptoeing and walking on eggshells because I don’t want to say or do the wrong thing.
But it almost feels like no matter what move I make, it’ll always be something that makes you unhappy.
You used to care and I don’t know how to get back to that place.
All I can do is hold onto a hope that’s fading. And maybe when you find yourself again, it’ll be there you find your way to me again.