1:19 AM October 6th

Exactly one month since the last time we exchanged words. You've always had weird timing. I shouldn't have picked up the phone but I couldn't help it -- I wanted to hear your voice. Drunk, lonely, self-depreciating. You sounded tired in the way that it takes more than a good night's sleep to fix. You miss me. Everyone asks about me. It never stopped surprising me that other people in your life knew that I existed. You always kept me at such a distance, I never thought that you'd have anything to say about me to anyone that mattered. Keep repeating how much you messed up, how you want to take me out next week to that place I like so much. I wanted you sad, alone, missing me and thinking about how much you gave up. Now I just feel sorry for you. And of course, the constant stream of "I love you" that fills any silence more than a beat or two. I don't know what to say to any of it. Maybe it's true, but you don't love me right.