A/N: Just a little drabble that got stuck in my head when I was listening to a song. Exactly 100 words per MS Word.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Stop reminding me already!

Spoilers: Doomsday, but not necessarily.

One day, you have to move on.

You wake up and your eyes burn a little bit less at first light. Your throat doesn't automatically close; you can breathe. Your life is different.

Your life is changed.

Your life goes on.

The pain never goes away; it only becomes easier to manage. And you do. You manage.

You stop seeing her in everything you do. You stop smelling her every time you breathe. Eventually, you tuck that picture from the block party into a box that's perhaps more filled than you thought it would be.

It's hard to let go.