Nothing.

The thing about trash and recycling, is that there's always something there, a tangible object, a thing to feel and see (and sometimes even smell). When you throw something away, that thing goes somewhere (usually to a landfill). You recycle something, and it gets transformed and used again. The cycle goes on and on and on. It's a beautiful thing.

But with love, sometimes there is nothingness and emptiness, and "no more". Sometimes feelings disappear, and can never be found again. Where they go, we don't know. We go to marriage counseling to find them. We take lovers, hoping to feel good again. We drink. We laugh. We try to want and long and ache the way we used to.

Nothing.

I am feeling a bit empty of love at this moment, wishing and missing for what I once carried with me every day like a warm, tear-soaked, blanket.

No more love like a life force that could leap tall buildings. No more love. No more love. No more love.