Here, the speaker admits that life is simpler when someone is out of the picture. Distance helps: the less they see this person, the less they think about them, and the easier it is to heal. The opening lines are short and flat, almost like someone repeating a rule to themselves so they'll believe it.
Then the poem wobbles. The moon-and-stars comparison suggests a pull, a feeling of needing the other person. But the speaker immediately pushes back: "and i dont. / i know i dont." That repetition sounds like self-persuasion, as if saying it twice might make it true. The real problem comes near the end. The other person has feelings for the speaker, and the speaker can't return them. Judging by the lines, the hurt comes from that mismatch, from knowing someone cares and being unable to feel the same.
The mood is tired, honest, and a little deflated. The casual ending, "that's what sucks," keeps the pain plain and unpolished, which makes it feel believable.