Smile.

He lay on his bed, scrolling through social media, his mind distant from the screen. He kept scrolling, liking every post, constantly hovering between the videos and his DM's. He didn't usually get notifications. That day was no different. It sort of depressed him, but he kept going back, hoping that someone, anyone wanted to talk to him. He kept scrolling, the minutes of the clock ticking away, gently guiding him into sleep. 

He had a beautiful dream. He didn't remember any of it when he woke up, only a lingering feeling of warmth he had never experienced before. He looked at his phone. It was dead. It had probably run the entire night.

He plugged it in to charge, heading to the kitchen. He took a pan from the cupboard and some eggs and butter from the fridge. The simple routine of making an egg sunny-side-up was oddly relaxing. While the eggs were sizzling, he poured some coffee beans into the grinder. He loved the sound of the dried fruit being ground into powder.

He emptied the powder it into his mug along with some hot water. He was fully aware that this wasn't the right way to make coffee, but he couldn't be bothered doing it differently. He sipped on his coffee, waiting for his egg to finish cooking. When it was done, he scooped it onto a plate, tossing on some salt and pepper before eating it with a fork. It was a bit bland, but he didn't mind. It felt like an explosion of flavors in his usually grey and monotone life, and it helped to temporarily mute the longing inside of him.

There was a little child, constantly crying deep within his heart, and he didn't know how to comfort it. It was reaching out, trying to grab something that wasn't there.

After finishing breakfast, he grabbed his phone again. No notifications. He started scrolling again as he brushed his teeth. Clips of love stories, dramas, and quotes. His homepage was full of it. He hated how addicted he was to see other people get the one thing he couldn't. A silent tear dropped down his cheek.

He quickly wiped it away, telling himself that he would find someone, someday, surely. He kept scrolling as he headed back to his room, flopping down onto his bed, but seeing other people's happiness didn't help anymore. The more he looked at the animated pictures of loving couples and successful proposals, moving poems and heartbreak stories, the more his longing grew.

After a while, he couldn't take it anymore. He put away his phone, burying his face in his pillow, silently screaming, tears flowing without restraint, flowing, not stopping until they sinked into the pillow. He hoped that his tears would carry the emptiness in his heart away, but he knew it wasn't that easy. There was an aching pain in his heart, the little child was screaming. 

He wanted to reach out to the child, pat its head, comfort it, but deep down, he knew he could never. He needed someone else to help that tiny child, but he couldn't. Every day he walked through this world, but there was no one. He didn't even have the luxury of being turned down. No matter whom he looked at, talked to, or even only listened to the sound of their voice, nobody could create that beautiful feeling that people called love inside of him, and it was eating him up. 

He didn't care if no one loved him, he didn't care if the world despised him, he just wanted to love someone else. He wanted to care about a person, he wanted to chase someone for their feelings. But he couldn't. Love was a foreign concept to him, one that he, in his twenty-one years had never experienced. 

He kept crying into his now soaked pillow until there were no more tears. Then, he curled up in the corner of his bed. Now, he couldn't even cry about his problems anymore. He felt terrible. Pathetic, even. After all, surely, he wasn't the only one who felt the same way, but he had never seen anyone collapse the way he did. He felt weak, insignificant.

He kept telling himself, surely, someday, he would find someone, but it didn't go any further than that. After all, he didn't even know what love was. Was it that amazing sentiment that everyone kept talking about, the one that makes you feel good just being next to that certain someone? Was it a sense of protectiveness over someone else, was it a sort of obsession, even? He didn't know. He couldn't know, he couldn't wrap his head around it. All he could do was long for a feeling he wasn't even sure existed inside of him.