December 29, 2022:
There will never be a final cry.
You can't "cry it all out and move on", as certain "tough love" advocates might insist. Death leaves holes in the universe — empty spaces where something belongs. When that something is love — I'm sorry mate — that space is forever and ever and always and done.
This is the great sorrow of ageing. Little by little the universe becomes one of more and more holes, where less and less fabric remains to hold itself and yourself together. And no flood of tears ever will keep things afloat.