welcome to purgatory.

Losing that kind of love is a death, but worse, because you have to die again day after day until there is nothing left to die.  Then you are sentenced to walk around numb and utterly dead inside for a while, a kind of personal purgatory, until you are able to lift your head above the ground and breathe again, and of course, you will . . .

Loneliness feels so slow & alone no matter what, until someone says the right thing that lifts everything just enough. Thanks Sean.