Arel had decided, after much internal turmoil, that he would try to communicate with God. For days, his mind had been filled with thoughts of God, this divine being who had always been silent to him, yet whose presence seemed to consume his very existence. He had no idea why he felt this burning desire, but something within him told him that he needed to speak, to cry out, to try.

He sat down on his bed, took a deep breath, and let out a shaky sigh. "Can you hear me?" he whispered, his voice trembling. His heart raced, and his palms began to sweat. "Do you hear me, God? Or are you too far away to listen?"

For a long time, nothing but silence filled the room. No divine voice, no whisper in the wind, not even a shiver down his spine to suggest that God had heard. His heart sank, but Arel was determined.

He stood up, his mind filled with both fury and a deep, aching love. He was tired of being ignored. He was tired of this silence that seemed to suffocate him. He needed God to know the truth.

With a fierce breath, Arel screamed into the stillness of his room, "I love you, God! I love you more than anyone else in this world! But I hate you for not responding! Why won't you answer me?!"

There it was. The raw truth, spilling from his lips. Arel's love for God was endless, but so was his pain. His words hung in the air, but still, there was no answer.

Arel collapsed onto his bed, the tears welling up in his eyes. He was exhausted, mentally and physically. His love for God had been like a fire, burning him from the inside, but it was also the very thing that caused him to feel the most empty.

He closed his eyes, hoping that the silence would give way to something – anything – to reassure him. But no sound came.