What My Text Should Have Said (6/30)

“Hey.”

I know we haven’t spoken
in 93 days
but I miss you

and, yes
I remember what I said
about giving you space
and I promised myself
I’d keep my promise to myself

but here I am

I don’t even know
if you’ll recognize my number
don’t even know
if you’ll recognize it’s me
reaching out to you
when just yesterday
I silently prayed
you would reach out to me
but

“I had a very strange dream last night.”

and I barely remembered it
must have blocked it out
til it rushed back to me
as I rocked this child to sleep
below the soft hum
of a whirling fan

a phone call
from your number
answered hesitantly
greeted by awkward silence
your voice —
a flat recorded message
your name
your white flag
your final wishes
a suicide note
me wondering
how many people
had received the same call
me wondering
was it too late
to save you

I awoke a bit hazy
choosing to forget
such a heart-wrenching wake-up call

yet here I am

breaking my vow of silence
refusing to call it “nightmare”
instead of “silent cry for help”
because I also promised
I would always be here
when you need me
and I meant it

so here I am

sending this lackluster correspondence
hoping it conveys
how much I need you in this world
even when I can’t see you
even when I can’t speak to you
even when I can’t hold you
until you remember
everything will be okay

you say I be so mushy at times
so I will spare you my emotions
and simply say
I’m

“Just checking to make sure you’re okay.”