I still regret
not asking for your number
but had I done so
I’d probably have left a dozen messages by now
randomly asking how you were,
what you were doing,
when you were available
for us to get together
– in a purely platonic way,
of course.

I’d have texted interminably,
attempted cutesy strategies
to leave you thinking of me,
wondering how fun it would be
to stay in my sphere.

I’d have sent you poems
emojis and GIFs
– which I would have made a point
not to pronounce
so as to avoid
that entire potential kerfuffle.

I would have memorized your number
by now,
I’m sure,
if I’d asked for it
and you provided it.
And I’d be struggling to forget it
after you told me it was all too much
too soon
and you were looking for less involvement,
for less of me.

If I’d have asked for your number
I’d probably be exactly where I am right now
so: no regrets.