Not much is expected to be accomplished in 21 days after all. The false sense of peace and the lull from the pain are pointless plateaus. Whatever are those for? Breaks to give space to energize, I suppose. Now I have gathered plenty of strength to cry at will because of a picture, a text, a promise that will now never be fulfilled. A single memory can evoke laughter and then tears in a span of a few minutes, and I feel weary, numb, and yes, just a little bit stupider.