Emptiness isn’t loud. It doesn’t scream or cry—it just sits quietly inside you, like a space that used to be full. You wake up, go through the motions, speak when spoken to—but something feels missing. Not broken. Just… gone.
It’s the absence of joy, of meaning, of connection. You try to feel, but everything feels distant. You try to care, but your heart feels numb. It’s not sadness, not anger—just a quiet void that you can’t explain.
This feeling is hard to share. People ask how you are, and you say “I’m fine,” because how do you describe something that feels like nothing? You wonder if it will pass, if something will spark again. But for now, you drift.
And yet, even in emptiness, there is truth. It means you’ve felt deeply before. It means you’re searching for something real. And sometimes, the most powerful healing begins in silence—in the space where you finally hear your own voice again.
You are not hollow. You are waiting to be filled—with light, with love, with life.
