Black. Pitch black.
Words may have failed him, but the dark sky above him was the perfect
rendition of what he felt. It was that time of the day. You know, the one
before dawn breaks? Morning, yet darker than the darkest night. Or perhaps he just
lost track of time. Raindrops drizzled their way towards him; his soaked hair
fell on his forehead. Not a sound hit his ears. Even the raindrops seemed mute.
He finally looked up. The black skies, the silence, not a soul in view;
felt like he was delving deeper into a black hole. Not a single pair of
interrupting eyes, none of those judgmental gawks to run away from. And he
thought to himself,
‘What a beautiful, beautiful black hole!’
A rather awkward smile stretched on his face. Or perhaps, he laughed
at his own misery – a misery that was now a vital part of his life.
It all started coming back to him then. The raindrops that earlier
caressed him, now hit him like questions.
Why can’t you just move on? Why is everything falling apart? How
can they not let things go when you do? Why does it even matter? Does anyone
need you? What is your purpose? Will this ever end? Or will it go on until
nothing’s left of you? Why can’t you be what you choose to be? Is there
anything left that’s worth looking up to? Why were you even born? Did you
really deserve any of this?
“Let me be!”
The silence finally broke; his voice seemed to stab the air around
him, leaving rays of light all over his black hole. He brushed it all off his
face – raindrops, questions, tears. This was his world. A black hole he must be
vacuumed out of. A force somehow kept him going. A force he hated, yet a force
he knew he needed. He turned around to leave his beautiful black hole to face
the world he lived in.
He walked away…and the sun rose behind him.
Turning on the dark is easy, turning it off is not.
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