Want for Love

Love. A four letter word, but one of the strongest in the dictionary. Everyone knows it, almost everyone feels it. Everyone longs for it, reaches out to it as a baby to its mother.

Then there are the others; the lonely group set apart by pain and suffering. Emotional. The sensitive beings who want nothing but love in their lives, but who have to strive for every drop. The ones who see an image of a starving child in Africa, and see themselves instead, walking miles to get to that one sickly puddle of muddy love that only makes them want more. Forced to forever want. To forever long for that little grain of love-rice that is ever so rare, and only fills a small corner of their stomach-hearts.

You never learn to see these people. They are invisible. They hide, shrouded by a façade of fake happiness. They will laugh with you, smile with you, even dance around with you as if nothing is wrong. Yet in their eyes; a glittering hope and longing reflects in those pools like the rays of a setting sun dances on smooth lake water. Its always there, impossible to see unless one looks for it directly.

Until you are one. Until you feel that pang of hunger, and see in the eyes of those you once thought loved you.

Until a parent calls you useless, tells you that you have nothing in the world that would make you useful. Tells you to stop everything you love, giving excuses as to why you can’t continue.

A suicide note. A sharpened knife sitting on the bedside table. A bottle of pills, opened in their hand.

Why would someone do that? Things can’t be that bad! Everyone struggles once in a while.

You never know until its you. Until you feel those thoughts touch your mind. You’re not depressed. You’re not tired of it. You don’t want to do ti to leave this life, you do it to torture those who tortured you. Revenge.

Revenge.