I just remember walking through the NGV alone, just trying to get my mind off her. It was a fucking bad time, man. And ironically, there was this art exhibition about love, like, every piece of art had to do with love. And I remember staring at this one painting of a boy teaching a girl to play a flute in this forest. It's like, it's like they were trying to hide what they were doing or something. For some reason, that painting got me thinking about her again, after a whole fucking month trying to avoid doing exactly that. Surprisingly, I didn't break down like I thought I would. I actually felt pretty okay thinking about what happened and how I felt about it. It got way better after that. I mean, she fucking wrecked my heart. She fucked me up good, but I don't know. I don't think it's a bad thing to try and start over again.