He told me that he’s not usually the relationship type, but that doesn’t mean he lacks company. I roll on my side and feel a tear run off my cheek. Have I made a mistake? I’ve only asked myself this question thirty thousand times. It’s been months and I’m still thinking about him. Dreaming about him. Aching for him—if we’re telling the truth.
I stare at my phone, sitting on my bedside table and for a moment, I’m having trouble remembering why I didn’t pick up the phone and call.
