I was empty. Not the kind of empty as an unfilled cup, or a box with no contents. No, the kind of empty that was a raging black hole, consuming everything that came near and was small enough. Most people were small enough. Walking around with a black hole in your chest is not the best way to make friends, not the best way to make a connection with somebody. I was sad. I was lonely. I was angry. Angry with myself, for not distancing myself from people I knew I would hurt. Angry with others, for not realizing how dangerous I was. Alone in the universe, I went from place to place, trying to do as little damage as possible. Sometimes, I would leave behind nothing but a missing smile. Sometimes I would leave behind a person, angry and sad. And occasionally, I would leave a bit of myself.
One day, I gave up. There was no one who loved me, and no one who would even try. I stared down at the emptiness of my chest, giving up hope in that moment. And I looked up and saw you. And.... and you had a black hole in your chest, too! I leapt up and stared at your black hole, shocked. Then I looked down to see my black hole was gone. I couldn't let you take my black hole, couldn't let you take my pain. But I looked back up and you scooped the black hole out of your chest and began to form it, molding it gently like clay. And soon, my monstrous black hole was a heart full of stars and moons. You set it back into my chest, and I instantly felt better. I squeezed it tight, hoping the feeling would never leave. And it hasn't. And now we walk the universe hand in hand, leaving galaxies in our wake. I do not destroy anymore. I am not empty. I love. And I hope. And I thank you for being the better half of me.
