Three years has passed since a total collapse.

 For me, divorce was something like a huge natural disaster: It was so massive that I can’t even figure out how devastated it has been.

 For the past three years, I try to focus on living myself. Cooking small dish in dawn, cycling all the way up to an art school every Saturdays, reading old novels and drawing a sketch sometimes. Perhaps, I was trying to convince myself that I still have things I love, and was capable of handling myself.
 I’ve relatively been feeling content, but constantly felt empty nevertheless. And being alone fuel its sadness.

 Well, it’s only three years, and I will carry on with it.