Playing literal games

I shouldn’t have allowed myself to get used to it, the good morning and goodnight texts, the constant communication, messages that shouldn’t have been construed as anything but platonic in the grand scheme of things. When the pandemic started, it was only supposed to be phone games but I decided to play a different one. I took the plunge and messaged him and he responded back, which inevitably led to us exchanging numbers. Me wanting to know more about this person who kept playing literal games with me, back-to-back. Months later, I couldn’t go more than a day without talking to him. I’d like to believe that he felt the same — the nervous jitters before every phone call, butterflies when we were virtually face-to-face, a ping of excitement with each text received and sent. Now we’re almost a year in. Neither of us have made any moves beyond the phone screen. A tale as old as time, our communication adrift as the excitement becomes less and less. But there’s a part of me that can’t help but wonder...is it too late? Will one of us say something or is it all in my head, a symptom of lockdown delusion? The more I allow myself to think about it, the more I feel like the only thing that I’ve played with is my heart.