I remember having 4 teeth pulled as a kid. It was a hard experience. But it wasn’t until after having them pulled and running my tongue across where they once had been that I passed out and hit my head on the concrete floor of the dentist’s office.
That’s always been the weirdest part about loosing a tooth. It’s as if your tongue is uncontrollable, you just can’t help but to touch the area and think about it.
It’s been that way lately about my brother. I miss him. Unconsciously I think about him, about calling him. But that space is missing. He’s no longer there. And it scares me.
I doubt I’ve ever stop rubbing my tongue over the gap. I’m not sure I want to .