The Shadow and the Soul

Prelude

A part of me feels like it's missing. I've never been able to entirely figure out what it is. It feels like twenty-three years have rolled past me and I've been checking off all the boxes on a long list that was provided to me by some cosmic being. In reality, my list is the exact same list as nearly everyone else. Some individuals might have more specific information on their list than on mine, but isn't it all the same (even if it we don't all have it in the same order)?

Experience seemingly normal childhood? Check.

Make a friend (and if you can, friends)? Check.

Awkwardly stumble through puberty? Check.

Get out of high school in mostly one piece? Check.

Somehow manage to graduate from university? Check.

I know that there are others that have lists that are nothing like mine. Their lists have redactions or have been shredded to obscurity. There are others who have lists that are about just trying to maintain their existence. It would be a lie if I said my list was like that. To be frank, I'm really happy my list isn't like that. 

My list has been full of suburban clichés that they make sugar-sopped movies about.  It would be cliché to tell you I don't fit in. I do.  It would be cliché to tell you that I don't know what I want to do with my life. Does anybody really know?  You pick something and hope it sticks.  I've been fortunate enough to experience true friendship. I've been lucky to stumble through first love and heartbreak. I've been supported by a loving family who made sure I was educated and was able to experience life. 

 I've always had a sunlit path.

But something is missing.

Something inside me is hollow.

I want to shine a light inside that place and illuminate it, but all that appears are shadows too heavy to move.

The part that confuses me is that I never know what I truly wish would fill that hollowness: the light or the shadows?