A hueco, a hollow, a gap, or a hole.

We all feel that sooner or later. It's maybe a mixture of that feeling of an illness, something that you can pass better or worse; which you can help your body a bit or you can make it even more difficult for it, but the illness doesn't depend of you. It will be there, or not. Not all illnesses are medical, however. It's the same principle. Love is like that. You can't make it. It happens to you. You can only hope it happens to you and to the object of your love, at the same time, during the same period, and in the same place. Otherwise you will only suffer. You can't make love appear. As with illnesses, you can help, or you can make it worse; but it will find its way through, sooner or later. And when it does not, or in the spaces in between succesful love or succesful health, you'll feel your hole. You know you can fill it up, but it is not at your hand. Call it fate. Call it luck. Doesn't depend of you, after all. You can only increase the odds, of please your gods, whatever you like most. Things can fill that emptyness. But it won't last long. Somebody can fill it too, and it's much longer and sweeter. Maybe even longer than your life.

The hole is there. Probably you don't feel it. But you will. Maybe sometimes you will only catch a glimpse of it, like standing near a cliff. I wish you to have it just for a bit, just to realize how wonderful every other day you don't see it really is. Good luck.