I May Regret This In The Morning, But Tonight I’m Saying Hello

I may regret this in the morning, but tonight I’m saying hello.

You come across my mind every now and then. I don’t think that is all that surprising.

What does surprise me is how much I miss you when that does happen. It surprises me how overwhelming that feeling is. I remember a lot of people, you know. I have fond memories filled with nostalgia and soft smiles that I like to replay.

Your memory doesn’t feel that way. It doesn’t feel like something I just happened to remember, but like something that’s been trying to force its way to the forefront of my mind. Like it’s demands to be remembered, to be noticed. It feels less like a small tug or a tap on the shoulder and more like an earthquake; I don’t remember you without my brain rattling to some extent.

And on some of those nights, like tonight, I want to reach out to you and say hello again. I want to ask how you’ve been and how life is treating you. And truthfully, I want to reach past all the small talk and say “I’ve been thinking about you.” Most nights I manage not to say anything to you. I talk myself out of it; I even type out introductory messages that I delete instantly. I tell myself it’s not worth it, that reaching out will only manage to prolong this intense feeling you stir up in me that doesn’t seem to want to fade.

Tonight, I don’t talk myself out of it.

Wanting to talk to you doesn’t stem from loneliness or boredom- I have more than my fair share of people to talk to. Sometimes, I just want to remember some feelings again. Maybe you will remind me of why you stir up this kind of emotion in me. Why you can still manage to create butterflies in my stomach and bring a smile to my lips without even being in the same room.

Maybe you’ll respond and remind me, but I’m also just as aware that you may not. You might read it and not bother to reply. Maybe you will be making some other girl smile and taking her down another memory lane. I’m optimistic, but not unrealistic. I know that I may regret reaching out to you tomorrow. I may shake my head and kick myself for it. Yet the thing is, my regret will pass. It won’t stick with me for days and days on end. What will stick with me is if I don’t reach out; the “what if I’d said hello?” I know that question will haunt me more than reaching out to you ever would. “Hello” is one word, that could fall on deaf ears and I’ll forget about it, or it could open up the door that’s been closed for so long.

Something in me still thinks there might be magic between me and you, and that’s enough for me to send five letters, one message, this one night.

I may regret this in the morning, but tonight, I’m saying “hello.”