That’s a beautifully poignant reflection. It profoundly captures the way time, in all its subtle cruelty and quiet grace, both heals and scars us. It reshapes our relationships and perceptions in ways we never fully expect. The way what was once a constant—something we held so close—slowly slips away, turning into something distant, almost foreign, is achingly real.
It’s like trying to hold onto sand—the harder we grasp, the quicker it slips through our fingers.
How do you find your way through all of this? Does writing like this help to make sense of it all, or is it a way of navigating the depths of pain?