I don’t know if I’m happy;
because I didn’t remember right away,
Or upset;
because I definitely feel weighted.

“It’s just a number,” I reassure;
just a number and just a boy,
And everything;
(Almost everything) that I’m missing.
That I lost.

I don’t know if I like that I;
remember, as I do,
Or if;
I like the privacy of it.
Of knowing.
Of you not knowing.

I do feel something, I don’t feel safe;
in the knowledge that I’d still take you back,
But you’ll never ask.