You thought you finally got it - the meaning of all this nonsense, the purpose of the universe - you almost understood why this happened and what you needed to learn, you know - almost. You responded this pain with dignity this time - and it was perfect - almost perfect - and then you cried when you were having a shower and then again when you were watching the sun rise and then again.
You don't take any selfies or pictures of other things, even of the most fascinating landscapes now. You don't post anything either - you don't reply, respond, ask, discuss, explain, mention, follow, like, delete. You don't even want to write now - anything, anything there at all, you ask. Weird, you always believed you would write better when you were going through some sort of heartache - this time, perhaps not.
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