‎if i just knew that would be the last, i hope i’d answer that last call. ‎ ‎i would’ve picked it up without letting it ring twice, i will hold the phone so tight against my ear that i could hear the catch in your breath before you even spoke. ‎ ‎if i had known the frequency was about to go flat, i would have memorized the static. and stayed on the line until the battery died. ‎ ‎i think about the almost of it all. ‎how close my thumb was to the screen. ‎ ‎i’ll give anything just to go back to that time. i would’ve filled every second with anything—or at least hear, what you wanted to say—just to keep you there. ‎