The Hole in His Soul
By Dad
For Isaac
He didn’t know how it happened. It began as an imperceptible, an almost un-noticed little itch. The scratch was the kind you make, without any awareness. Like picking your nose in a darkened movie theater – who would see?
Over many months, even years, the itch became more noticeable, more bothersome. It grew into a small tear, creating a hole. Imperceptible at first and slowly, with each movement of his body getting bigger, tearing wider.
The scratching was more pronounced. Visible really. Anyone with eyes could see him scratching, if they looked. Most didn’t.
With each scratch, each movement, his tear grew. It wasn’t in the fabric of a piece of clothing. It was inside him. It was a hole. Deep inside his being. It did not appear on any X-ray or medical examination. Though doctors did look. The hole was dark, like a gaping wound, but no blood or pus emanated from it. Should he be worried? No.
He wasn’t worried. He didn’t want to talk about it. He felt it, but couldn’t see it. What would people say if he pointed out his hole? Would they feel he was imperfect or unacceptable? Too dangerous. Better to let it be there. Disturbing. Dark. Unknowable. Do not talk about the hole, he thought. Less said, the better.
But the hole became more and more bothersome. He instinctively knew he had to do something to make the hole go away. He tried ignoring it everyday. It wasn’t easy. He applied the usual compress of watching lots of TV shows. No good. Sometimes while playing a death-focused video game, the hole was momentarily forgotten, but its presence pulsated inside his body, although no blood flowed to it or through it. It was a dark black searing damned hole and it was there.
Friends had some neat tricks for trying to heal their holes, he thought. Maybe if I get high I won’t feel so incomplete, so empty.
He breathed in the smoke. He swallowed the pill. Better. The hole wasn’t as noticeable now. It was even better to combine multiple distractions. High + work out. High + video game. High + high. What hole? Hahaha. He can beat this.
The hole was like a ghost. Nearby. Present. Unseen. Felt. Unmoving. Empty. Lonely. Different.
It was a hole in his soul.
Un-repairable. Why try. Who could understand? It sounded silly and he wasn’t sure if it was his soul or something else? How to talk about it? Don’t.
Better repeat the formula. High + work out. High + hang out with friends. High + play video games. Ohhh, yeah… high + sex. High + high + something else.
What hole. What soul? What? Worry? Nah. Never. Be strong.
And then. And then. And then, it came crashing in. Collapsing into darkness, into emptiness into his very self. The hole was a gateway: to shame, inabilities magnified, awkwardness. He was caught. Covering his hole, hiding it. Hiding the total lack of purpose. Pretend. Don’t admit anything. Escape.
Whew. Close one.
Again.
High. High+high. High+ not alone. Still alone. A cycle. Don’t stop. The hole is there. His soul was not right, something was missing that was too painful.
And then. And then. And then. It came crashing inwards, and all around. Collapsing into darkness, into emptiness hollowness. Caught again. Doing things that were dark, shameful. Hide it all. Pretend. Make up a story.
Whew. Close one. Too close that time.
What to do now? Oh. He remembered.
High. High + something… what? Oh yeah high + sex. High+ friends. High+ work out. Do it all over. Breath in the smoke. Swallow the pill. Forget. There is no hole in his soul. No, never, not there. At all. Deny. Escape. Repeat. Don’t feel.
It was working, right? No consequences. No one noticed. No one saw. Nothing was different. Alone high. Alone high+. Wait, do it with someone. Don’t be a freak. Be strong. Be tough. High + work out. High + high.
And then. And then. And then it all came crashing down. Inside. Outside everywhere. Shame. Caught. Don’t show fear. Don’t tell anyone. Don’t act alone, lonely. Don’t let anyone inside to see the hole. His soul could never, ever, ever be repaired. No. Not this….
Now nothing. Desert. Dust. Heat. Alone.
Never show fear. There are rules. Never show weakness. Never show anything weak.
And then. The rules. The hole. It was there now very big. He just didn’t want to see it. He just didn’t want anyone to see it. There would be another way.
So he waited. With his large gaping, painful, dust-covered empty hole. Inside. It couldn’t be seen. It was just there. To be ignored, right. What to do.
Try to wait. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Wait. In the dark. In the heat. He never felt more...
He never felt more alone.