There’s something uplifting about laying empty-minded in the dark. The light cannot speak to me. I don’t have to stare back at something that cannot see me. I am free from empty conversations.
Earlier today, I spent a few hours staring at the mirror, wondering if I know who I’m looking at. After mindfully inspecting the life in my eyes, the spots on my face and the lines on my forehead, I concluded that I no longer know who I am. Everything is unfamiliar – even now, my own words sound foreign to me.
My sight has taken my mind to a thousand places.
Here, in the dark, I don’t have to think. My mind is following the light wherever it may be. I glance at my phone’s screen and I’m quickly reassured that it’s far from where I lay. I still have a few hours with the darkness.
The sound of my breaths comfort my bare skin that sits under the air conditioner’s nose. Eventually, I give up to the cold and slip under my sheets. I toss and turn until I’m comfortable. Isn’t it sad that you’re not here to share this comfort with me? But then again, if you were here I’d have to keep up with these empty conversations as I hold back my desire to know you better. At this very moment, our encounters seem emptier than this darkness. At least, this darkness holds me, all of my memories, secrets, and desires.
You hold nothing within you and I wonder if you are capable of holding anything at all. I wonder what life is to you. Is it really just drinks, fun and games or does your water run deeper than the shores of the sea? I don’t know if I’ll ever know and my attempts to find out have proven to be useless.
All I can say to you is that your lack of flare has reignited my passion for the immaterial in fear of becoming like you. I am content laying here in the dark after a long day of living a truly meaningful life.