Is this seat taken?

L'appel du vide

Standing there, I was reminded of my first day in Philosphy 101 in high school.

"Is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?" The words were spelled out in chalk across the board. The professor stood in front of the class and instructed us to get out a sheet of paper and answer the question.

My answer was immediate. Of course it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

I scoffed at how clueless I had been.

The answer was much less black and white than I had thought, the lines blurred and left a large gray area in between. Now, as I packed up the last of my things, I was inclined to change my answer. Maybe it was better to never have loved at all. Maybe it was better to keep that innocence I'd had than to constantly be followed around by the nagging hole where he wasn't.

As I took one final look around the almost-bare room, I felt my throat constrict. Those shelves used to be filled with pictures of Tom and me with our friends. Now they were just empty. I had buried the photos at the bottom of the box marked "Attic" along with everything Tom had left. I couldn't bring myself to throw it away, but looking at it made me ache.

Sometimes I wondered if I could be consumed by misery, if it could eat away at me until nothing was left.

Sometimes I wished it would.