Drunk and belligerent,
you got out the words
"I miss you."
I spent weeks pining for you,
wondering what was so wrong with me
that made you not love me anymore.
Weeks of crying,
weeks of avoiding you,
weeks of remembering the
few
good memories
instead of the innumerable bad.
I told you about the new boy
that holds my hand
and calls me beautiful.
I'm happy
and you're pining.

What comes around,
goes around.