It was a day that she claims to recall vaguely. A day where the world had come apart and the skies had opened with torrential rain to grieve. It was a day that she had tried hard to forget, to categorize at the far back, in the darkest corner of her head. A day where the universe was against her and all of nature’s forces seemed to agree. It was a day where she had decided, then and there, to give up. And the only thing that her memory had registered was the precise feeling of failure and hopelessness. And of course, the few notes in her calendar: to give up on love.