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  • But last night,
    Last night was different.
    It was not like my nights in the recent past,
    When I lay awake.

    It was very different.
    Most evidently,
    The main idea strayed from the usual.

    It was a thought of many feelings,
    Of many descriptions,
    Of many adjectives.

    It was a thought of sadness,
    Of loneliness,
    Of pain,
    Of worthlessness,
    Of brokenness,
    Of many other things,
    That words could never tell.

    It was a thought of love,
    But not at all in the traditional sense.
    It was a thought of love,
    Wasted love,
    Wasted time,
    Wasted feelings,
    Wasted worry,
    Wasted pain,
    Wasted anticipation.

    But don't feel bad.
    After all,
    It was probably my fault.
    It was probably just some thing that I did,
    That you didn't approve of,
    That I have no idea what it is.

    But you know what?
    That is fine with me.
    Further pain will not be caused by you.
    I am too used to this,
    Too numb to this.
    I have worked up a callous,
    Towards what has happened
    With you and I.
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