Was it ever real?
The way we felt about that person?
Or was it a projection of something we needed, or something we wanted regardless of their emotions?
Filling the void is a task best left to the emotionless.
I, myself, had always had a complicated relationship with emotions. I either felt it all, or felt emptiness/blankness/nothingness.
Frighteningly, it was mostly the latter.
I want only to fill it, terrified that it'll destroy me, eat me alive. I fear the annihilation. The silent erasure.
But to fill it, I have to sacrifice another. I have to offer up the warm blood of a lamb to the cold gods of my chest.
I've watched his heart break. I've seen his eyes go dark. I've felt the winds change.
I'm so sorry.
But I love myself more.
I think the place to start isn't so much about asking whether it was real, but to question if it was love I was looking for initially.
I wish I could accept the nothingness and be satisfied without having to put anyone else in it.
I'm so sorry.