Sins of our Souls

Chapter 1 Absence

What if you wake up one day and you lost everything? It would be such a weird thing, wouldn't it? Because how can you lose everything with the blink of an eye? But what if it is the start of everything? What if everything you thought you had was not real -or rather, they were just nothing, among all the things you can have-?

I don't know how to begin this story quite right actually. It all started with a feeling though. Under the skin, it was there my whole life. The feeling of absence. Yes, I know it sounds silly of course. Sounds childish and depressing. Another crazy young one. But it never left me. And I bet it wouldn't leave me even if I could reach my 80s. 

My youth wasn't all that colorful. I had all these fears. And I didn't get out too much. I'd rather stay home and be miserable. People out there? They were too much work! I never could handle them. 

So the absence. Yes. It never left me even when I grew out of my hopes and dreams. The only thing that remained was the hole inside me. It's like this absence I'm feeling was trying to become my whole being. It swallowed my dreams, it swallowed the want and need in me. Turned me into a void. Made me feel like nothing. And made me think everything was just nothing. Nothing ever mattered. Whether I lived or died! It wasn't important. Every day was another thing to dread and spend mindlessly without seeing. I stopped feeling. I convinced myself that I never loved someone, that I wasn't capable of it. I don't know really if I ever was capable of it or anything. It's not like how they tell you in the books. In reality, you never stop searching for the best. Because nothing is ever really enough. Ah, nothingness! I wonder, if there's such a thing. For a word used so much, there's not really any of it. 

There was one certainty in the absence. I didn't want to fill it with worldly things. I didn't want to have a regular job and a house. And I didn't want to start a family that would depress me terribly. I tried to write, draw, sing. I possibly failed terribly too. Because terribly depressing thing was I never put my absolute effort to any of it. I thought if I did then it would make me more human. Funny, how I thought I was better than any human. But I became young and bitter. Anger surrounded my being as I failed at everything I tried willingly. I didn't want success. I was a sad thing.  Like something that could not be seen. I was there but not really. In reality, I wasn't real. I couldn't let myself be real. It was too scary... Too scary to live and easier to float. No one and nothing could touch me if I did not existed. The absence was horrific, devouring. That's why it got me. I loved being devoured. It hurt, but I did not know any other way.