What does it feel like to lose someone you love?
It feel like nothing.
It feels like an all-consuming, soul-sucking Nothing has grown in your gut - a black hole that will swirl and sweep and suck everyone and everything you've ever held dear into it - and you'll let it.
Because maybe then Nothing will feel less empty.
And maybe then you'll be able to feel something. Something other than Nothing. Something like something again.
Maybe then the Nothing will not gnaw away at your bones - or threaten to swallow you whole. Maybe it will not leave you painfully empty, despite its pull. Maybe then the Nothing will not haunt the corners where he walked and slept and ate.
...What good is a world without a Melvin in it? What is a "life's purpose" without him around?
What good does it do anyone to get up, to shower, to put on pants - when none of it will fill the Nothing?
The Nothing makes food taste like sawdust. It contorts smiles to the grotesque and renders conversation abhorrent.
It makes you yearn for nothing - nothing more than to go home. But what is home now?
The prospect is unthinkable - because the address remains, but the love that resided doesn't. Sacrificed. To Nothing. And you can never get it back.
You were once ever-present. Now when I call out to you - nothing.
There's a Nothing in my gut so big that it threatens to tear through my skin.
I'd cry but it'd mean nothing.
I'd scream, but it'd do nothing.
I wonder. I wander...aimlessly...what in the hell I'm meant to do now. Where I'm supposed to go now. What I'm supposed to feel now.
And the answer is nothing.