The Text I Never Sent

I drafted it at 2 AM. Three paragraphs of everything I should have said when we were still together. I read it seventeen times. My thumb hovered over send for forty-five minutes. In the end, I deleted it. Not because I didn't mean it, but because I knew it would only hurt you more. Regret is knowing the exact moment you lost someone. It plays in my head like a movie I can't pause. I wish I'd been braver. I wish I'd said I loved you one more time.