Emptiness

I am depressed, but I know not why. I have no reason for feeling this way. My life is infinitely greater than many others. I have my friends. I have my family. I have all my heart desires, or at least all it should. Yet, deep from within my soul lies an emptiness. A dark hole that swells immensely each day. I try to ignore this feeling, and continue with my life, but the emptiness always returns to torture me. I cannot imagine why this feeling so ardently consumes my heart. I am not sad, but I am not content. Nothing I do makes this emptiness relinquish. My soul requires something I have not yet, and may never, obtain. Though I know not what it is, I sense this. I desire something to fill the void, and the desire tears at me night and day. This feeling is dissolving my sanity. My life is so full, and yet this emptiness plagues me with such intensity. I wonder if this is how people feel right before they commit suicide. They arrive upon the conclusion that their life cannot or will not get any better, and as they sit alone late at night the emptiness envelops them. Salty tears streaming down their face, while they press the cold steel against their temple. Their body shivery as they slowly pull the trigger. Only then will the emptiness dispel, a pool of scarlet blood mingled with tiny bits of pink flesh surrounding their lifeless corpse. It is my fear that this is the only escape from the feeling that tortures me so exquisitely, and in my mind I know it is the truth.