There's that point, when it ends, where you go forward in your head. And you take these little slices out of your memories, memories that you haven't quite lived yet.. Where you were both going for Christmas, picking up the kids, climbing mountains. And you take these slivers, slivers of the ones of you love/d, out, and you just have these holes. Holes where somebody was going to hold your hand, holes in the shapes of laughter and love. And I've been doing that. And despite the emotional comparisons to swiss cheese... Well, I just feel lonely. And not, surprisingly, holy.
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