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The river of memory flows as it pleases, changing course, leading far away, then returning, as if checking if it has healed. Everything seems to have calmed down, but just one look into the eyes of new love and the salty betrayal of the past quietly resurfaces from within. Tears are like an old password that your fingers remember without prompting. The music breathes with the weariness of trying to forget and the warmth that still lives somewhere beneath the skin. It feels like someone is singing softly about you while you pretend to just be listening to the radio.