I've been writing. I've been starting and stopping and erasing what I've written. There is some hole in me that I've tried to fill with rational thought and questions about the right thing to do; the hole swallows these things and grows.
I've been thinking of loss. Of the losses that have been and of those still to come. The losses that I have control over and those that are coming no matter how hard I rage and struggle against them.
How often does one meet another person that really loves them for who they are? How many chances do we get at these things that seem so monumental and so small all at the same time?
Lyrics of the Day
"And I filled the emptiness and the pain inside with a whiskey and a woman's touch, and that's as good as love." Joe Purdy Meteor City
6 months ago