The Void

The Void

“It’s an ache that is hard to not feel, and most don’t realize that they are feeling it until it has worn away at the defenses that need to be in place to do something when things crumble. When you let go of what you own and want, you aren’t given it all back eventually. You either take it back, or become okay with not having it anymore.” John sighed, took a sip of coffee, and continued. “The latter is preferable, but most people take the former path. I am one who has not become what he thought he would be, but knows that he is good and is who he is, and wants to become more acquainted with a 100% joy in what is, and let go what was, may be, should be, etc. The problem is the Void.”

Steve looked away from the spot of grime on the counter he was pondering, and turned to John. “The Void?”

“Yeah. The Void is where we let ourselves slip into when we forget to remember who we are.”

Steve leaned a little closer. “And who are we?”

John’s brow creased in confusion. “Well, we are all human. Almost and abundantly, I guess, would be the correct answer for that type of question.”

“What happens when we lose sight of that?”

John stood, went to the coffee pot, refilled his cup, and sat back down. “We don’t cease to be human, if that’s what you’re asking. We do have a harder time being human though.”

“In what way?” Steve leaned back, and lit a cigarette. He knew John hated it, but this was taking too long.

“Friendship is the first to suffer, of course. Not losing friends, but distance.”

“Really?”

“Here, I’ll show you.” John grabbed his 9 mm pistol off the table, and stuffed it into his inside jacket pocket.

“Okay fine.” Steve stood, and put his coat on. He followed John out of the house, and onto the street.