We kept in touch via text the first four years, but out of nowhere, the texts stopped. Those bright bursts of hellos that gave me joy fizzled out like I had imagined them. And when I tried to call her—I found she had changed her number. Iced me out completely. I understood. She had her bakery. She met someone. But goddamn it stung so fucking hard I still have whiplash from it. Every time I close my eyes, I’m right back in the past. I see Dakota and that last goodbye where I fucked up everything royally. I didn’t do what I should have done. Ask her to stay. Tell her I loved her.
