I remember one night--
six months after we were over.
I thought I was good.
I had moved on
(as on as I could get)
and I felt happy.
But that night, it started.
The second wave.
And this time,
it wasn't all because
I had lost you.
It was also because
in that moment
I knew
there was no way in hell
that you were thinking about me,
too.
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