I come here when the hole in my soul hurts.

The Cure. One of a dozen songs played when I realized she really was gone. 

 

The Fucking Cure. Pictures of You. There are a million songs that will rip that soul hole open again, but this time it was Pictures of You. 

 

She used to send me pics to my phone. I'd open them and put the phone in that little phone holder on the dash as I drove. 

 

Dash pics. 

 

For so much that was all I had of her. We'd talk a dozen times a day and those dash pics got me wherever I was going. 

 

Better than a nodding jesus

 

She was my personal Jesus. Her magic was only for me. Her miracles were only for me. Her smiling face on my dashboard protected me from accidents and metiors and tornados. 

 

It's true and I can prove it. 

 

But she's gone. We both knew it would happen some day. She had let real life take over and I get it. We weren't normal. 

 

Normal. 

 

Fuck normal. 

 

Abnormal sounds scary and we weren't abnormal. We were extraordiary. 

 

And extraordinary isn't normal so fuck normal. 

 

That soul hole. 

 

I can feel it now. 

 

It' a hole in water and you can't fill it. 

 

That soul hole. 

 

Every four minutes when I realize she's gone and it had to happen eventually and it's all for the better and it's better to love unconditionally and freely and get crushed than.... what... what the fuck is all that better than... 

 

Hello soul hole. 

 

Hello soul hole. 

 

Hello soul hole. 

 

We miss her don't we. 

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