You don't have the right to speak to me after everything that happened this past summer.
I deleted your number with the intentions of never talking to you again. I didn't want to risk scrolling through my cell phone, seeing your number and getting swept away by the flood of crazy memories. I also took the precaution of deleting your number from my address book so there was absolutely no way I'd be able to contact you. After all, you were pretty much dead to me.
All of this... and I honestly never thought about what would happen if YOU ever tried contacting ME.
Weeeell, you did. And initially, I had no idea who you were. Your hint: "this is someone you haven't talked to in a while, and this wasn't the first time either". You were the first person that came to mind and I started shaking -- out of anger or confusion, I don't know. I was hesitant at first, but we kept texting and you suggested that we hang out -- a suggestion that I never saw coming and thus, didn't get a response from me until a few hours later. I didn't want to. My head was screaming "NO!" but I eventually gave in. I'm stupid.
-----------------So he and I hung out last Friday. We went back to our spot, overlooking the city. The view hasn't changed. He definitely hasn't changed. But I have and that's all that matters. I'm proud of myself. That's a bridge burned that I absolutely do not regret.