Dark thought
It was a quiet Sunday night, and the rain tapped against the windows of a dimly lit room. The room felt far from the outside world, as if it had drawn into its own dark labyrinth. Scattered belongings, dusty shelves of books, and faded photographs on the walls all bore traces of a life once lived—but somehow, none of it truly told the story of that life. It was as if the room were a reflection, the heart of a ghost; silent yet eerily full.
What troubled him most wasn’t loneliness—it was emptiness. How could a person feel so hollow? This boundless void inside him pulled everything into it, like a vortex, even eroding the mask he had worn for so long. For years, he’d donned the same mask: a smiling, strong face that showed the world everything was fine. But now, that mask seemed to dissolve in his inner chaos. For a moment, he had forgotten how to genuinely laugh and be happy. The expression on his face felt strange, as though he were looking at the face of a stranger.
He’d always been a lonely child, even when surrounded by crowds. When his friends laughed, he could never laugh from the heart; there was always a distance, a barrier. The things people talked about seemed meaningless to him. Perhaps he was different, or maybe he was someone who simply didn’t want to be understood. Sometimes, he believed someone would eventually come into his life to save him from this trap, but unfortunately, no one ever did.
Over the years, people had come and gone—friends, lovers, everyone appeared like a passing storm, leaving him feeling lonelier and more exhausted each time. Perhaps he didn’t want to trust anyone, or maybe he thought he wasn’t worthy of love and trust. He didn’t even know why he felt this way. He thought that perhaps some things from his past had imprinted on his subconscious, but nothing was clear.
One night, he attended a party, invited by an old friend. In that vibrant, lively atmosphere, he felt like an outsider once again. After a while, he stepped out onto the balcony, took a deep breath, and looked up at the sky. At that moment, his thoughts grew even darker. "Is there really a place for me in this world?" he wondered. Maybe he didn’t belong anywhere; perhaps he was merely passing through. He knew he could never explain this feeling to anyone because it was indescribable. It was too complex to put into words.
While he was lost in thought, a woman approached him on the balcony. She looked at him, her eyes deep, as if seeing through him. “You look lost, too,” she said quietly. He looked back at her, surprised. “Yes,” he finally replied. “Maybe it’s this city, these crowds, this night… none of it feels like it’s meant for me.”
The woman smiled, but there was a sadness beneath her smile. “I’m just like you,” she said. “In this city, surrounded by all these people, I feel alone, too. But maybe loneliness is our shared fate. Maybe, somehow, we can fill this emptiness together.”
That night, they talked for hours. They shared stories about life’s struggles, the pain of loneliness, their dreams, and hopes. But despite how close they felt, both sensed that something was still missing, deep down. The next morning, they each went their separate ways. They promised to meet again but never did.
After that conversation, his outlook became even darker. Everything felt meaningless to him. Even when he achieved success at work, he wasn’t satisfied; the void inside him only grew deeper. Daily life offered no solution to his inner turmoil. He couldn’t sleep at night, crushed under the weight of his thoughts. He didn’t want to appear among people, choosing instead to drown in silence. He knew he had to do something but had no idea where to start.
One morning, he woke up, looked at himself in the mirror, and realized he’d been running from this emptiness for years. This feeling that haunted his dreams, that broke his sleep, was actually a wound he had avoided facing. Perhaps this turmoil that he had never dared to accept, this pain he tried to ignore, was the very thing holding him prisoner.
That day, he decided to be honest with himself. He embraced his loneliness, confronted the shadows of his past. He no longer hid his feelings. He accepted his trust issues, his fear of loss, and his disappointments, exactly as they were. He no longer saw himself as someone who needed to be healed but as someone he needed to accept, flaws and all.
As he began to forgive himself, subtle changes appeared in his life. He took more time for himself, treated himself with more kindness. He could finally sleep at night, feeling a little lighter during the day. Though the world outside still didn’t mean much to him, he had started to learn to ease the pain within him.
One evening, as rain once again beat against the windows, he sat quietly, closed his eyes, and realized that although this dark emptiness had once brought him pain, it had also transformed him. This darkness was part of his story; it hadn’t destroyed him but had, in fact, made him stronger.
Now, he no longer felt lost. He hadn’t found the meaning of life, but he had made peace with himself.
