I have a hole.  No, not that one, you pucking ferv!  I mean in my heart.  In my soul.  That hole.  There’s an emptiness inside me where Danielle used to be.  I’m trying to find ways to fill that space, but it’s really really hucking fard.  Right now, dating is merely a distraction.  I’m not really ready to date, I’m just going through the motions because other than my daughter, my family and friends, and this book, I have very little that fulfills me.  After I met Danielle, she began construction on a place in my heart.  In my heart, there was her and me.  When Emily was born ten years later, another part of my heart was given to Emily.  So it was the three of us in my heart.  Sure, I had friends and family in my heart, but the three main compartments were for Danielle, Emily, and me.  Now a part of that is gone.  It’s a wound.  A hole.  It was half my life for 10 years and a third of my life for 13 years.  I want to fill it.  I need to fill it.  I can’t fill it.  It’s gone.   It’s left a void in my life that only time (I hope) can heal.  This is why I’m working out more, writing this book, happy houring with friends, Bumbling/OK Cupiding, going to therapy with Dr. Razo (so much better than Dr. Dick), attending meet up groups, and going on meaningless dates just to fill this hole that can’t be filled.  Quite frankly, even with all of these things combined it does not fill 1/1,000,000^th of this hole.  I feel like a deckhand on the Titantic who’s trying to take the water off the deck with a bucket.  Or I’m falling down a mountain and grasping for branches to hold onto, but can hold on to nothing.  Thinking about our relationship is all I can do.  It’s all consuming.  There’s nothing.  There’s no hope.