Filling Holes

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It fades. Never soon enough, though. That's just a fact. One day the missing and wondering and pondering and thinking stop. Life picks up where it left off. Except for a few memories. But until then... a hole is left that must be filled. With anything. Rum. Sunshine. Conversations with old friends. Work. The crunch of gravel underfoot. Writing. Sleep. Music. Mindlessness TV. At least that's how it works for me. Others may let go sooner; forget faster. Lucky them. I'm not sure that will ever be me. It's nearly inevitable. There's going to be a modicum of loneliness as they disappear from my world. Transitioning what once was into what is no longer is rarely easy for me. I guess that's because I live passionately and jump freely, often with little forethought. If that means filling a few holes on occasion, so be it. It's okay because I have few regrets. And everything always seems to work out as it should. Eventually.

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