I don’t feel anything.
I am sitting in the sunshine and I feel the warmth on my skin. I am listening to the melody and I feel the sadness within. But I still feel empty.
I see others cry, smile, and be inspired. Their thoughts are moved by the art that they immerse themselves in. I can only sit and stare. I should dig, but I am sort of paralyzed. My mind is frozen, my eyes glaze over, there is something in my chest, but it is not strong enough to be sure if it is actually there.
There is something wrong with me.
I can never cry. Sometimes I feel the tears welling up deep in my soul, but not this time. This time, there is nothing there. There isn’t just one other person moved, but two.
It isn’t you, it’s me.
I am separated by what they feel and I don’t. The ground is breaking between us and I can’t jump over the crack. I can only sit and stare. The crack will become a canyon. I will be the only one sitting on my side.
I come out of my trance. I whisper. Someone walks up behind me.
“You’re not alone.”
I didn’t have to yell. I only had to speak. I am not the only one sitting on my side. I know that I will hold your hand, but I need to know that someone will hold mine. Think about what it is like to hold someone’s hand. You’re not just holding theirs. They are holding yours too.
It’s not just you. It’s me too.