There are days when I feel like all they do is argue. They grumble and yell in their room. The house would come alive with them as drawers groaned, doors yelped, and chairs moaned. It intensified everything, not only making the arguing more prominent but made it more daunting as well.
Whenever I asked them what had happened, they would ignore me and say everything was quite alright. I never understood them.
Why did they shout, if everything was ‘alright’? And everyday for that matter? If they were fine, they wouldn’t need to raise their voices. I couldn’t think of any other reason besides them fighting.
Imagine you’re reading a book. You are on the last page. Reading slow yet fast. Longing for the ending but wishing it wouldn’t come. You read the last sentence. Close the cover, and place the book on your side.
Or imagine your watching you’re favorite show. The last episode slowly comes to a close, and you know it’s the final one. There won’t be another season. Nor any teasers. These last few minutes are the end. And before you know it, the rolling credits are done, and you realized that it was the first time you had ever seen the credits fully.
As you shut off the TV or place the book back on its shelf, a sense of quiet fills the room. You hear everything. The clicking of the old-fashioned clock you didn’t know you had. The deep hum of the heating system. The wind rustling a few trees outside. The echoing footsteps of your parents upstairs.
Yet as you look around you see nothing. Even as the contrast in your eyes miraculously darkens, making every object defined, ever color more vibrant, you can’t see anything, your eyes may be looking around, but they aren’t seeing what’s in front of them.
At that moment, you feel an emptiness arise in you. An uncertainty you are unsure what to do with. It’s a sense of clarity and confusion that vibrates from within you. It’s a sense of serenity… that you love… and hate.
That’s what happens when you finish a show or book. That’s what happens when a movie hits you. That’s what happens when a poem reaches you. That’s the feeling I want to give. Gifting that feeling — that’s the profession I want to have.