Come springtime it will have been two years past and yet I still feel as though my breath escapes me from the hurt and pain. The now forever absent and forever void space often seemingly growing only lager when I am looking only for healing and even finding it often and with ease... this pain is massive and consuming. but yeah... I am all good man...it's fucking o.k.,... I will get over it like I always do... Well, there is no getting over this... it's growing spiritually larger then this and that is the only way to cope with loss, and so I relinquish my tight grip I do hold on youth and take another large step towards the graying of the forties.