Heard your name, just as I was heading home the other day, and I swear I couldn't even sit up straight. I swallowed hard. Found your shirt cleaning my apartment and it made it worse. And I swear, you couldn't even see the hurt. I swallowed hard. And when my friends ask how I'm doing, I say I'm great now, but the truth is I'm getting good at holding it in. All my emotions, all my feelings. But the more that I fight them, the bigger they seem. What really kills me is all the small things.