Do you ever wonder about me like I wonder about you? It’s four years later and I am wondering if you have ever had “one of those nights”. When I see you post on your Instagram, a photo of anything but yourself, saying that you and the guys are out tonight- if It could be one of those nights.

The nights where all your mind can picture is my face, where all your thoughts encircle inside of your head bringing up a hurricane of memories, where you lie emotionless on your bed, where you try to distract yourself by doing what you love but suddenly you remembered something I said related to it, where you beat yourself up inside for not following through on your promise to me, and where in a sea full of blue you see purple.

And now you call the guys and tell them that you’re sinking, then they come to pick you up for another night in the city. When you spill everything to them, again, and can’t seem to ever fall out of the same loop. You’re saying the same thing over and over as you run your hand through your hair for the twentieth time. You try not to cry because they tell you that I am not worth it, and they are right, I am not. You tell them that you are in love with me and that you don’t think that you can ever stop, and they sigh.

The guys sigh the same sigh that they have done for four years because even they are tired of it now. All you are focusing on is if I would take you back, I would, or if we could possibly start over again, we could, but you know that trying to start it up again may not go as planned. Your biggest fear is that a no could come from my mouth and you could never return to the same man that you compose yourself to be most of the time.

You’re probably thinking alcohol would numb your pain, but it only expands your mind or that marijuana would calm your body down but now you are only thinking rationally. Like the many times before, you insist that you have to call me- you have to talk to me and the guys will yank your phone from your hand turning it off. They try to tell you that you are better off without me, which is true, and that you need to relax and have fun.

Now you are yelling at them as you gracefully walk down a board walk, you need to call me, because somehow, I am going to answer even if I’ve long lost your number. The guys force you to look into their faces, they shake your shoulders and scream back at you to get a grip, that if I wanted to talk to you I would, that if I needed you, I wouldn’t have left you. You shake your head knowing that they were right, and it sinks in just as before.

You calm down at last and you tell them how glad you are to have them stand beside you through the years. They insist that you need to sit down, and you agree, so instead of driving around the town searching for the girl that is worth your time, you just sit there.

You sit there with your best friends on either side of you and you wait until the sun rises. It’s something about seeing the sun rise after a long night of thinking about the reality of you and me that doesn’t exist makes you feel at ease once again.

Now you are baffled, you’re laughing. You’re laughing out loud hysterically as you see the sun blazing once again in your eyes. You’re laughing because of how pathetic the whole thing really was, because I’m pathetic, because I am the worst girl that you ever let into your head. But overall, you’re laughing at yourself because after four years of me exiting your life you still let me completely fuck you up. The guys laugh with you because they are coming off of the same buzz and high and they know exactly why you were laughing.

You begin to tell them how I am, how I am happy now even though I really wasn’t, how my latest tweet about what happened in my day was pathetically dull, how I am only getting worse and worse every year for the past four, and how I use to treat you.

You recall when I slapped your best friend, when I use to curse a little too much, or when I picked a fight with you for no reason. They agreed how dumb all of those things I did were, and you just smile at them.

The sad part is, after one of those nights, you know exactly why it didn’t work. You know that we could never work, we were both fire and when you fight fire with fire you set a bigger fire. It was easy to get burned. You know that even if it never worked, you couldn’t help but think of “what if it did”, you only think that way because we both have remained single ever since, like one day we both thought we would find our ways back to one another. You always wondered about what if I didn’t leave, if maybe you would have left instead. You wanted to know if there was something beyond the end of us.

When they take you home, you’re okay now. The car ride you were silent and soaking in the entire night and that you had to think of a good explanation for your parents to why you didn’t pick up your phone, why your phone went to voicemail, why you smelt of booze and pot, why you looked exactly how you felt- empty.

Then, after all of the yelling, you carry yourself to your bedroom where you broke down on the edge of your bed. Where the trigger was a photo of me smiling next to someone you didn’t know was my family. You know you can’t fall asleep on your own because you never can now-a-days and you’ll dig out the bottle of sleeping pills. You forget all about the night because no matter what, there will be more to come.

I wonder all of these things because they happen to me too.