And then I wonder, do you ever think about me the way thoughts of you consume my nights? Does your mind ever flash with moments of us? Do you ever think of that time on London Bridge, where it started snowing and I smiled – so happy, so blissfully unaware of your deceit – and you smiled back down at me and kissed me passionately amid the snow and the noise and the traffic? Do you ever glance back and grin at the memory of our first kiss, in the dark of the cinema, me sitting on your lap and you swearing that I barely weighed anything at all, whispering hot nothings in each other’s ears? What about the time where you caressed my neck and told me you loved me for the first time – the only time – do you ever remember that and wince at the hurt you did me just two weeks later? That moment, where I was so blissfully happy to hear you say just three small words – does it break you the way you broke my heart and tore my world apart? If you think on me, even just once, and bleed, then my revenge is exacted.