It's often the same. I listen to music I know affects me.

Really affects me.

It has before and will again.

And I allow it, because of the desperately needed catharsis and release.

Do you understand? Oh, god. I'm shuddering in sobs once more.

In shuddering sobs I play out this late night reverie.

I do it to myself, and I feel a washing away.

Because, you know. I really loved that person. That person who said they loved me.

So the ritual.

Once a month or so. Listening to music that draws it out.

Shuddering sobs of despair.