The water will bring new things. Not replacements. New things. New people. New versions of yourself you haven’t met yet.
And in that observation, there is a strange peace. Lo Que El Agua Se Llevo
You look for the people who showed up with towels and coffee and silence. You look for the stories that didn’t need photographs to stay alive. You look for the part of yourself that didn’t drown—the part that is still breathing, still standing, still willing to rebuild. The water will bring new things
The water takes, yes. But it also reveals. It washes away the clutter, the pretense, the "someday" dreams you were only holding out of habit. What remains is the essential. The irreducible. The real. I am not going to tell you that losing things is beautiful. It isn’t. Loss is loss. Grief is grief. New people