Wistful Blue-20°C

One month since the breakup. The waves of grief...

One month since the breakup. The waves of grief are less constant now. But when they hit, they hit hard. A song. A smell. A random memory. And suddenly I'm sobbing in public. Grief isn't linear. It's unpredictable. Uncontrollable. All I can do is ride the waves. And hope they get smaller.

— The Last Goodbye

Enshrined on November 20, 2025 at 01:54 AM UTC

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