2:47 AM. Your phone screen is the only light in the darkness. You're scrolling through your contacts, and you stop at that name. Your finger hovers over the number. Outside, rain falls. The sound of raindrops hitting the window overlaps with your heartbeat.
If you call, what would you say? "Hey... how are you?" Too casual. "I miss you." Too honest. "I just... wanted to hear your voice." Too desperate. No words seem right.
The call button is just one touch away. But that small gap feels as vast as the universe. What if they answer? What if they don't? What if they're with someone new? What if they sound annoyed to hear your voice? Maybe it would be better if the number had changed, if a stranger answered, so you wouldn't have to hold onto this number anymore.
You're not alone in thinking this way. An ex-lover, a deceased parent, a friend you never reconciled with—we all have a number we want to call but can't. This piece is for you.
Why We Can't Make the Call
The reason is clear. We're afraid of rejection.
When you don't call, at least the possibility remains. The possibility that they might think of you. That someday they might reach out. That it's not completely over. But the moment you call and hear a cold response, that possibility shatters. Certain rejection hurts far more than ambiguous hope.
There are more complex emotions too. What if they're doing well and happy? What if they're living a better life without you—or perhaps because you're gone? Calling them in the middle of that happiness and making them remember the past feels selfish. Disturbing their peace for your comfort.
Another reason is that you're not ready. There's so much you want to say, but you don't know what to say. Should you say "I'm sorry"? Should you say "I miss you"? Should you ask "Why did you do that"? You've rehearsed it hundreds of times in your head, but you feel like all your prepared lines will vanish the moment you hear that voice.
Most of all, you're afraid that making the call will truly end things. Right now, at least on anniversaries, on rainy days, when their favorite song plays, you can think "someday." But if you call and face a clear closure, even that "someday" disappears.
The Contradictory Wish for That Number to Disappear
Paradoxically, we sometimes wish that number would stop working.
"We're sorry. The number you have dialed is not in service." If you heard this mechanical voice, at least you wouldn't have to wonder anymore. This isn't your choice but a choice made by circumstance. A changed number means they've started a new life, and it feels like a signal from the universe that you should too.
💭 The Weight of Maybe
Research in psychology shows that uncertainty can be more stressful than negative certainty. When we don't know the outcome, our minds keep processing it, searching for closure. This is why unfinished conversations weigh on us more heavily than we realize.
We look for external factors to make the decision for us. Instead of agonizing over whether to reach out or not, we hope for a situation where we can't reach out. This isn't avoiding responsibility. This is a form of self-protection. Passive acceptance hurts less than active abandonment.
Some people check their ex's social media looking for a new number. At the same time, they hope not to find it. They see traces of a new job, new city, new lover, and tell themselves, "It's really over now." But when they actually see that evidence, their heart breaks.
Understanding this contradictory feeling is important. You want to forget, but you don't want to forget. You want to let go, but you want to hold on. You want to call, but you don't want to call. This isn't weakness. This is human. We want closure, but we also fear the pain that closure will bring.
Why Unspoken Words Accumulate
Psychologists call this "unfinished business." Conversations left incomplete, emotions unexpressed, conflicts unresolved—they remain as weight in our hearts.
The human brain craves completion. Stopping a movie midway feels uncomfortable. An unfinished sentence feels frustrating. Relationships are the same. Without a clear ending, our minds keep trying to "process" that relationship. Before falling asleep at night, while driving, during a shower—we continue the unfinished conversation. In our heads.
"I should have said this then." "If I had acted differently in that moment." "Would things have changed if they knew my true feelings?" These thoughts repeat because our brain is searching for the end of the story.
This feeling becomes stronger especially when a relationship ended suddenly, or when you didn't get to say a proper goodbye. The desire to say "I love you" one more time to a deceased parent. The desire to admit "It was my fault" to an ex-lover. The desire to be the first to say "I'm sorry" to a friend you fought with and lost touch.
These words aren't for them. They're for you. You need them to keep moving forward, to put down that weight, because your emotions deserve to be expressed.
Digital Liberation in the Modern Age: A Third Option
Make the call or give up completely. These aren't your only options.
The digital age offers us a third path. A way to say what you wanted to say without actually making the call. This is the concept behind The Unsent Call.
You dial the number virtually, hear the ringtone, and say out loud what you wanted to say. But those words don't actually reach anyone. They go "into the void." Not recorded, not saved, no one hears them. Only you know.
🌊 The Science of Letting Go
Studies show that verbalizing emotions has a therapeutic effect. Speaking words aloud engages different parts of the brain than writing or thinking. It's more powerful than journaling, yet safer than an actual phone call. This process allows your brain to mark the conversation as "complete."
This isn't self-deception. This is a form of psychological liberation. Research shows that the act of expressing emotions out loud itself has a healing effect. More powerful than writing in a diary, safer than making an actual call.
You can express your true feelings without the risk of rejection, without worrying about disturbing their peace, without needing to prepare perfect words. "I miss you." "I'm angry." "I'm sorry." "Forgive me." "I loved you." Whatever words—they're okay. No one is judging.
Most importantly, this means an ending. A symbolic ending. An ending you chose. The moment you hang up, you put down that weight. You don't have to hope the number changes. You don't have to wait for a chance encounter. You've already said it. Now it's time to move forward.
This practice doesn't erase the past or diminish what you felt. Instead, it honors those feelings by giving them voice. It acknowledges that the relationship mattered, that your emotions were real, and that you deserve to find peace even when the other person isn't there to provide it.
Taking the First Step Toward Closure
The perfect timing won't come. The day you feel brave won't arrive. The moment when you know exactly what to say won't happen.
But your emotions deserve to be expressed. What you felt was real, and the closure you seek is valid. If they can't listen, the universe will. Most importantly, you will hear yourself.
This isn't weakness. This is courage. Finally giving voice to unspoken words. Putting a period at the end of an unfinished conversation. Choosing for yourself without waiting for someone's permission or response.
If you're not ready to delete that number, you don't have to. But at least don't let that number hold you captive.
If you're ready to take the first step, now is the time.
Ready to let go? Try The Unsent Call simulation now. Or if you need a moment of calm first, listen to the rain in our Rainy Window simulation.