Do you miss me? he asks. 

I called him because I was curious. 

I didn't miss him at all. 

 

Every time I call, he asks the same question.

Do you miss me?

Do you miss me?

Do you miss me?

I wonder how someone who left so abruptly can ask a question so lightly. 

 

He talks to me like nothing happened

He still has my number saved and some of my belongings at his house

I still have to look up who is calling because his number is the last thing I would save

He’s a reminder of how people will bypass their actions

no matter how hurtful the actions were

and continue a conversation without apologizing

 

He never apologized

 

Yet he misses me

 

I listen to him talk about his job

where he lives

what he is doing

he says he is so proud of me and glad he knows me

 

He knows nothing about me

 

He reminds me that all of my relationships are the same.

They never go away

 

So I tell him,

I’m writing a book on the way you left me

and maybe after I finish this book, I’ll miss you.

 

I know I will never miss him. 

 

He laughs, saying he will read it. 

 

He says his misses my sense of humor. 

 

He has no idea what he has missed. 

 

And after we are done talking, 

I am reminded once more of how glad I am

that I don’t miss him

because he was always the motivation to spend time with people

worth missing. 

 

So I call him, not because I miss him

but because sometimes, I need that gentle reminder

a living, breathing caution sign

to never allow myself to return to someone 

who has to ask if I miss them.

 

If I missed them, 

they would already know. 

 

his piece has been published on Thought Catalog. You can read the published version here

 

Comment