If it was me writing this poem, I don't think it would ever end. It would just be a cycle, slightly less painful every time. When I get wound up like this about a person, I tell them to go to hell, not literally though. It's not really worth the hassel to stay so caring about people like that. Anyway, it's your decision, good luck with whatever you choose to do & take it easy.
Love & Hugs.
The tragedy of it is that nobody sees the look of desperation on my face. Thousands and thousands of us, and we're passing one another without a look of recognition.