Biking Past Memories
To escape the weight of it all, I started riding my bike around the neighborhood, letting the rhythm of the pedals clear my mind. Inevitably, I’d pass by the house Lisa and I once called home, and memories of weekends in the garden or summer barbecues in the yard would resurface. But instead of warmth, they felt like echoes of a dream that belonged to someone else. Still, the fresh air steadied me, offering small pockets of calm in the midst of chaos.
Biking Past Memories
Friends Return
Bit by bit, my friends began reaching out—inviting me for coffee, offering words of encouragement, and simply showing up. Their gestures reminded me that I wasn’t forgotten, that I still had people in my corner. Sitting together in cozy cafés, sharing laughter over warm drinks, I felt slices of normalcy return. Those conversations, light but genuine, became lifelines, pulling me back from isolation and reminding me that I wasn’t carrying this burden alone.
Friends Return
