Roaming

While wandering around on the internet on friends of friends' pages, I found this bit, titled "low" about a break-up:

...well, it's stupid isn't it? why should i care about her birthday, that i can't wish her a happy one, that the cards would be returned or ripped to shreds, the flowers stomped to bits or brought back to my doorstep if she knew where it was? the following day, what would've been our anniversary, hurt more when I met a couple that'd picked the same wedding date that we had. i tried to listen along happily as they described plans for their burlesque extravaganza nuptials but all i felt was the constant sensation of a thick-soled boot in my ribs. my best attempts at nesting did nothing to soothe, nor did alone time. i will ride this out as i do, and will likely eventually lose this feeling in the busy-ness of my day-to-day until it sneaks up and temporarily crushes me again, whenever that next time may be.

It brought the pangs of recognition.