It was just past seven when I woke up from the empty darkness. The chilly air gave me a feeling of inner emptiness, accompanied by a strange kind of heartache, and I didn't understand why. I wasn't sad, but that feeling was very uncomfortable, so I hurriedly got out of bed to turn on the light. Brightness always gives a sense of security. Immediately after, I turned on the computer and the speakers, letting music fill the blankness that made me uncomfortable.
I am not a person who loves sadness; the sentimental and melodramatic days have long passed me by. I still often feel deeply, but that has always been love for my family and gratitude and contentment for life. Occasionally, I get bored and don't know how to pass the time, but I'm rarely lonely. This is a sense of heartache—not the kind that makes me cry, but an indescribable feeling of loss, pain, and fear.
