There Must Be A Word

There is loss, extreme loss, and pain. There is an emptiness that seems to consume, a hole that fills you up. There is grief in a form most absolute. And though I would like to, I do not feel it.

There must be a word. There must be a word for wanting to partake in grief which you do not feel. I can look and understand so much. I have lost in my life, but I have not lost this. And yet I wish I had. Is that perverse?

It could be a yearning for empathy. It could be a need for catharsis. It could be a ploy for attention. It could be, simply, an excuse to give love. Tragedy binds far more than blessings every will. Must I seek out tragedies in order to express myself?

There is darkness. There are people who pull you out. Perhaps that is it.