you buy a house, with plans to make it a home. maybe it has 3, 4, 5 bedrooms. you check that off your list. you start to picture the future. you remember your room as a child and everything your parents provided for you. you imagine providing for someone in the same way. & that’s all you can do is imagine it.
months go by, maybe even years. the empty rooms haunt you as they begin to fill with your own belongings. the belongings you don’t even really want but you have all these empty rooms so why not fill them up? you fill the empty rooms with things to distract your mind from what the room is really missing.
you fill up the empty spaces with fitness equipment, trophies, clothes, instruments, offices and maybe stuff for overnight guests. you use the space to keep your guilt at bay. the guilt that stems from naivety of assuming you’d get to feel the empty rooms with what you really wanted.
empty rooms had the potential to be filled with love. now they’re filled with an unspoken sadness. empty rooms make you bitter. they eat at your mental state. will others begin to notice your empty rooms, you begin to wonder.
empty rooms, the visual and physical representation of the empty spaces in your heart. to enter the empty or to not enter the empty room. will it fill your void?
an empty room is just an empty room unless the future you’ve imagined has been destroyed.