This piece began as a quiet attempt to capture the particular ache of a breakup that arrives not with fireworks, but with a single, devastatingly ordinary text message. I wanted Snow’s pain to feel specific and lived-in—no grand gestures, just the slow drip of memories and the stubborn refusal of the heart to switch off. The rain, the playlist, the bridge, the lavender latte: these are all small anchors I borrowed from real nights I’ve known (mine and others’), because heartbreak so often hides in the tiniest details we once loved. Thank you for walking these wet streets with Snow. There’s more to his story—and to the “another lost soul” across the city—if you’d like to keep going.