You don't text anymore

You don't text me anymore. I don't blame you. I gave you my number, but didn't save yours too. You didn't wish me a happy New Year. No fault of yours; I hold no fear. I waited for a text, but stared at the blue, Wondering why, but knowing what to do. You don't text me anymore. It's something I can't get out of my mind. I told you I had a child; you took it as something so mild. You don't text me anymore. It's sad but true: you wanted everything I couldn't give you. You don't text me anymore. In silence, I grieve because we had so much in common. We could have been besties. It can't be called "temptation" if you don't give in. Telling me about every horrible thing you've ever seen I fell for your poetry, but not you. I thought I made that obvious; unfortunately, you never had the slightest clue. I'm not mad, but glad that I got a chance to meet someone like you. And I hope you'll realize that soon.