When?

When I drive home, and thoughts of you hover my vulnerable mind.
When shuffled songs sing what I don't say.
When I'm alone, wondering how you are.
When I'm praying in the chapel, in the afternoon, wishing you were happy, hoping I'd never hear about it or you.
Every moment when I'm done hating you.
After I've forgotten you.
After being happy with someone else.
When I don't talk about you - which is often.
When smelling a familiar scent.
When I sit at the back of the classroom, and stare at the person who seems to look just like you.
When there are signs of you, that lighten up that dark memory of you.
When your ubiquitous presence never fails to shove in my face that it is funny, but it hurts...

IT IS FUNNY BUT IT HURTS.

And I only love you when it's funny; but it hurts.

But it's always funny when it hurts.