I had a dream of being in that familiar state of uncertainty and excitement, debating whether or not I should text you. I debated because I knew that if you responded, I'd be elated. But if you didn't, I'd be devastated and embarrassed. And it could go either way because you were always so inconsistent and confusing. Charming and affectionate or cold and distant, I could never predict what response I would get.
When I woke up, I remembered that I deleted your number years ago. And somehow that seems sadder than any debate.