My heart aches at the look that crosses his face, recognizing it well. Grief.
“Don’t you think it’s a little cold for flying?” I ask, changing the subject in an attempt to help. The pain in his eyes is the kind that never dies, the kind that rises like an unpredictable tide and floods the shoreline without mercy.
🥹🥹🥹🥹😭😭😭😭
— Jan 14, 2025 03:18PM
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