It’s a horrible feeling trying to convince yourself that things don’t affect you when they do. The show must go on but at what price. A day of remembrance but a stealth ambush of regret and words never said for fear of sentiment or futility. Frustration trying to hide vulnerability. Obligations masking the need to heal. Today of all days and every year forthwith. Raise a glass to many happy returns of the day that will always be, yet will never be again.


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