'We have the same feelings that we have had.' I knew what was different when my skin didn't crack. My callouses didn't burn. My stomach didn't sink. I just internalized the loss. Embraced the weakness. Toe to toe with 'one day at a time' it has become as routine as watching you sink into cold/dead/skin the void where that fire went or where the next one the rope hanging from my father's hotel window Around. My. Neck. On. My. Head.