All I can do is think about him.  How he made me feel.  What can I do to get back to him?  My God, please tell me he wonders about it too.  Please don’t tell me he just went about his day without a second look back, a second glance back.  Replaying last night in his head over and over again, just like I’m doing.  And please, please let some small part of him be saying What can we do to get back to her.  Please let some small part of him obsess over me.  So I don’t feel so stupid.  It’s women that can’t separate the two.  Or maybe it’s just me.  It’s hope, fucking hope.  Women can’t let go of hope.  Hoping that maybe this is the one that will work.  Women kill themselves with hope.