All I hear is the persistent ringing of the dial tone. For what seems like the hundredth time in an hour, I gently place the receiver back into its cradle, temporarily ending the civil war happening inside my head. It's been over for two years now. Two years and I still can't let you go. I often question whether or not my behavior is normal. Am I insane for thinking about you practically every second of the day, even though the last words uttered between us contained such venom? Even though the aforementioned argument took place such a long time ago?

A lot has changed over these two years. I've heard from mutual friends that you moved on. I hear she's perfect too. Blond hair, blue eyes, the type of girl you've been waiting for your whole life. She's caring, bright, and toothachingly sweet. Brains, looks, personality. I guess she's the full package, huh? I can only assume that she's everything I wasn't, that she can give you things I never could. That she's always there to pick up all of your pieces, no matter how many times you break.

However, despite how many times I am informed about her complete lack of flaw, I can't help but wonder if you still think about me when you lay your head down at night, or if you see a vision of me every time you close your eyes. After all, you did once tell me that I was the only girl that you couldn't picture yourself without. That no matter what happened between us, that I'd always have your heart in my hands. Such statements were often whispered into the night air, as if they were some secret that the stars would forever hold. These sentiments were made before the storm, before the shipwreck. Do you still hold these same feelings now that we've crashed and burned? Or were these merely fleeting thoughts meant to enhance the romantic mood, and then to be forgotten when the moment passed?

In my mind, there are a lot of questions, yet practically no answers. No matter how many times I ponder over the details of our now non-existent relationship, no matter how many facts I collect, no matter how hard I hope and pray for certain things, the truth is, I don't know where you're at in your life right now. I don't know if your happy with her. I can't predict that you'd be happier with me. I can't assume that the road would be smooth if we became an "us" again. Even if I called you up right now as I have been dying to do all night, I am in no way certain that you wouldn't hang up on me and tell me to never bother you again. Life holds only one thing as a guarantee: There are no guarantees.

Well, perhaps there are a few exceptions to that rule. What I feel for you has been guaranteed from the moment I first laid eyes on you. Regardless of whether or not I ever even cross your mind, there is no doubting that I am currently sitting over here, wide awake at 2AM, pining over you as I have done almost every night since we've been apart. Considering the gap between that time and the present, one could use inductive reasoning to conclude that the hours I've spent reliving my past and trying to regain some small part of it reaches numbers that stretch far beyond the range of pathetic.

Your like an addiction that I just can't shake. And that's a scary realization for me. I know that when I'm ninety years old, I'll look back on the four years that I spent with you as the best of my life. If I knew that I could call you right now and that you'd accept that with open arms, not even God Himself could stop me from dialing the ten digits that'll connect me to you. The truth is, I simply want to hear your voice. I'm not even looking for an ideal conversation where everything works itself out and the world becomes bright and sunny again. I just want to hear your voice for at least one last time, perhaps just to gain some closure on the issue of you and I. Maybe a small part of me wants to unload its guilt by hearing you say that this whole thing wasn't all my fault. That my own stupidity isn't the sole reason that I sit hear every night racking my brain over you. Perhaps then I'd be able to get some sleep without having to swallow a couple of pills to get me through the moonlight.

I pick up the phone for the 101st time and finally muster up the courage to dial the ten numbers that will make your cell phone vibrate on the night stand next to you. One... three... four... seven... six... nine... two... three... four... four... five. My fingers glide so smoothly over the numbers, so well rehearsed in the practice. One ring. Two rings. Three, then four. Just as I'm about to hang up the phone and silently thank God for letting my momentary stupidity go unrealized, my breath stops as I hear a groggy "Hello" from your end.

I pause for a few moments just to hear your breath as you patiently wait for a response. "Hello?" you repeat, although this time I can tell that you're slightly more alert as well as frustrated.

I relish a few more seconds of this before dropping the phone back into its cradle again. My head flies into my hands and I brush my hair back a little bit, as I silently scold myself for doing this again. For working myself up so much as to get to the point of no return, before backing out at the last possible moment. For interrupting you and your life for my own selfish reasons. For knowing that this is the farthest that I would ever get. Because no matter what, I'm still the same scared girl I was when you met me. I'm still the same insecure girl that pushed you away two years ago. That's never going to change. I'm never going to change. I wish that I could, because maybe things would be different, because maybe then I'd be happy with my life right now. But it's just not in the cards for me.

So I'll go on pretending that I got over you a long time ago. That I closed the book on you as soon as you walked out the door. That I meant it when I said "Goodbye." I'll imagine that the man lying sound asleep in my bed upstairs can hold a candle to you. That he has even one-third of your traits and characteristics that made me fall so madly in love with you all those years ago. I'll conceal the fact that my heart aches for you practically every second of the day. I'll silently hold on to the memories of us and deal with the invisible scars that you left. Because when I lost you, I lost it all.