How can I fill this feeling of emptiness and loneliness as I look at the bottom of the engineering department?

Do you know that feeling of loss when you realize something precious is no longer in this world? Right now, on my vanity stand the life-saving ampoule that has soothed my sensitive skin for years, with only a few days' supply left. When I heard the news of its discontinuation, I hurriedly searched for stock, but there was nothing left. Every night, as I watch the last drop of product barely cling to the tip of the dropper, I find myself lost in deep sentiment as I gaze out the window at the hazy sunset.

Perhaps it's because of my anxiety, but these days, I'm focusing all my energy on even the smallest of daily habits to fill the void left by this little bottle once it's empty. Rather than relying solely on cosmetics, I've come to believe that maintaining balance both inside and out is the most important priority. First, when I open my eyes in the morning, I try to wake up by drinking a full glass of lukewarm water, similar to body temperature, instead of cold water. I believe that a peaceful mind leads to clear, harmonious skin.

And the thing I devote the most effort to is my bedtime routine. To prevent dust from clinging to my pillow and bothering my face, I lay a freshly laundered cotton towel on it every night. In the past, I would have simply fallen asleep, but now, with my life-changing essentials fading away, even this small act of kindness brings me peace of mind. Whenever I notice my skin becoming sensitive, I dim the lights, sip a cup of my favorite tea, and try to manage my stress. Even when my precious ampoule is completely empty, I fervently hope that my meticulous habits will come together to gently embrace this sensitivity. How do you cope with the emptiness of a precious item when you're about to part with it?