@idntimes: Sebuah mobil Porsche menabrak Nissan Grand Livina di Tol Sidoarjo, Minggu (17/3/2024). Kejadian tersebut terjadi di Tol Kejapanan - sidoarjo KM 768.400/B.  Kanit PJR 2 Polda Jatim AKP Puguh mengatakan, kendaraan Porshce warna hijau dengan Nopol B 333 LKA itu dikendarai oleh NAK warga Graha Famili Surabaya yang masih berusia pelajar.  #idntimes #idntimesjatim #idntimesnews #tiktokberita #tiktoknews #kecelakaanmobil #kecelakaanporsche #tolsidoarjo

IDN Times
IDN Times
Open In TikTok:
Region: ID
Monday 18 March 2024 08:00:00 GMT
2895
89
0
1

Music

Download

Comments

There are no more comments for this video.
To see more videos from user @idntimes, please go to the Tikwm homepage.

Other Videos

It’s been over a year since Willow passed and somehow the ache still finds its way into my chest like it happened just yesterday. I don’t know how to explain to people what she meant to me without sounding dramatic, but she wasn’t just a dog. She was the kind of soul that leaves a permanent mark. The kind of love that doesn’t fade, not with time, not with distance, not even with death. Willow was my best friend, my little shadow, my comfort in ways I didn’t even know I needed until she was gone. She was there for everything. Quiet nights when I couldn’t sleep, loud mornings when the world felt like too much, heartbreaks, triumphs, lazy Sundays, and the days I didn’t want to get out of bed. She never asked for anything except to be near me. And she was always near me. There’s something sacred about the bond we shared. It wasn’t flashy or loud. It was soft, steady, constant. She didn’t need words to know when I was hurting. She’d just lay her head on my knee or press her body next to mine like she was saying, “I’m here.” And she always was. Until she wasn’t. And that’s the part I still struggle with. I still find myself listening for the sound of her paws on the floor or glancing at the couch expecting to see her curled up in her favorite spot. I still instinctively look back when I leave a room, like I’m waiting for her to follow. My routines haven’t caught up with the reality yet. And maybe they never will. Some days I’m overwhelmed with gratitude that I got to love her at all. That I got to call her mine. That she chose me. But other days I’m angry. Angry that our time was too short. That she got old too fast. That I didn’t know the last time would be the last time. If I had known, I would have held her longer. I would have whispered every single reason she was loved. I would have memorized the exact rhythm of her breathing. I carry her memory with me every day. Not just in the sad moments, but in the quiet ones too. When the house is still and the sun hits a certain way. When I hear a song I used to sing to her. When I catch myself smiling at something she used to do. She’s woven into who I am now. Willow, thank you for loving me the way you did. Thank you for making my life softer, fuller, more beautiful. I hope you know that no matter how many years pass, I’ll always be looking for you in the stars, in the wind, in the warmth of the sun. You were my once-in-a-lifetime. I miss you every single day. #petloss  #grief  #dog  #dogloss  #fyp
It’s been over a year since Willow passed and somehow the ache still finds its way into my chest like it happened just yesterday. I don’t know how to explain to people what she meant to me without sounding dramatic, but she wasn’t just a dog. She was the kind of soul that leaves a permanent mark. The kind of love that doesn’t fade, not with time, not with distance, not even with death. Willow was my best friend, my little shadow, my comfort in ways I didn’t even know I needed until she was gone. She was there for everything. Quiet nights when I couldn’t sleep, loud mornings when the world felt like too much, heartbreaks, triumphs, lazy Sundays, and the days I didn’t want to get out of bed. She never asked for anything except to be near me. And she was always near me. There’s something sacred about the bond we shared. It wasn’t flashy or loud. It was soft, steady, constant. She didn’t need words to know when I was hurting. She’d just lay her head on my knee or press her body next to mine like she was saying, “I’m here.” And she always was. Until she wasn’t. And that’s the part I still struggle with. I still find myself listening for the sound of her paws on the floor or glancing at the couch expecting to see her curled up in her favorite spot. I still instinctively look back when I leave a room, like I’m waiting for her to follow. My routines haven’t caught up with the reality yet. And maybe they never will. Some days I’m overwhelmed with gratitude that I got to love her at all. That I got to call her mine. That she chose me. But other days I’m angry. Angry that our time was too short. That she got old too fast. That I didn’t know the last time would be the last time. If I had known, I would have held her longer. I would have whispered every single reason she was loved. I would have memorized the exact rhythm of her breathing. I carry her memory with me every day. Not just in the sad moments, but in the quiet ones too. When the house is still and the sun hits a certain way. When I hear a song I used to sing to her. When I catch myself smiling at something she used to do. She’s woven into who I am now. Willow, thank you for loving me the way you did. Thank you for making my life softer, fuller, more beautiful. I hope you know that no matter how many years pass, I’ll always be looking for you in the stars, in the wind, in the warmth of the sun. You were my once-in-a-lifetime. I miss you every single day. #petloss #grief #dog #dogloss #fyp

About