11 o’clock

11 o’clock rolls around and I remember what it was like
Only a week ago.

11 o’clock would roll around and I would be anxious, knowing you were coming home.

11:20-11:40 you would text me, more like I would text you
Wondering how your day had gone.

It was always me asking, always you replying, until one of us said FaceTime, and neither of us was all alone.

Any longer, at least, for a few minutes, it seemed, we had each other’s attention, til it ceased and now I’m wondering:

When 11 o’clock rolls around, what are your thoughts? When you’re driving home each night, does my name come up?

Do you read this blog and see how my heart has stopped…
Started, sputtered to life again, thanks to you, no thanks to you
Endless cycle of repetitive motion, or is it endless cycle of thought?

Do you wonder what has become of us? Or am I alone, rummaging through the remnants of what was? Do you know how I feel or are you pushing me away? Funny how that comes from you, when you told me you’d stay.

And I believed you, yes, I did then. So maybe this is just a phase. But when 11 o’clock rolls around, your name pops up…
Not on my phone,
But in my head.

My fingers don’t wait at the keys,
And even though so much has gone on, I find I can still breathe.
Do I want to tell you? Heck yes. Will I text you first though?
Think again.

Because 11 o’clock rolls around and I remember back then. It was only a week ago, what we had built up for a month or so…
Yet, you won’t even attempt to text.

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