Miller

But like all deaths, the death of a relationship is permanent. The ending of all endings. Finality in its purest form.
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Without her, I feel like one half of a soul, existing aimlessly, waiting for the earth to reclaim me the way I have so many others.

She’s only been gone for minutes, and all I can focus on is her absence.

It’s a strange sensation, grieving for what isn’t lost , but missing or absent