You know that kind of hollow feeling

where you feel like something is missing? It could be a person, a place, or something that meant a lot to you. You look back on fond memories and just wish you could rest in that place for more than the mere moment your memory offers you. These glimpses are not negative, rather just the opposite. But sometimes realizing that such moments don't exist anymore is like that moment when you realize that the little drizzle you thought you were standing in is really a torrential downpour. You're unsure of how or when it happened, and you wonder how much time has really passed. It's strange. Some may think that the introduction of new joys and experiences replace the ones you leave behind, but that fails to account for the fact that memories are never permanently lost. Some past images can be re-created, others cannot. Either way, there seems to be a fine line between past and present. The question isn't just whether or not you can reconnect with the things on the other side, but whether or not those things are willing to let you back in.