Hmm, that's short. Oh well. Comments all cherished!
There was a time in my life I thought I had everything. My life had a meaning and I didn't need anything more than that. Of course, afterwards I realized I had been blind. But as I had never really seen anything, I didn't know I was missing something from my view. However I found an unusual way devote this meaning, a way that couldn't help but draw attention. Even though I didn't saw whose attention I was drawing, since as said, I was blind. Soon I was forced to leave my life, my precious, precious, little world I was living in. My little box in the middle of everything I wasn't aware of. And it was all taken away from me. I vowed I was going to have my revenge, I still did until the end because taking me away from it lead to my destruction. Even though it made my life worthy enough and I started cherishing it only then. I would have died in sorrow and misery, but wasn't going to know it myself. They had no right to burn my box, no right to take me somewhere to build another one just like it. Which I soon did. Though there was this one difference in the design: a window I couldn't bring myself to cover, since I liked the view.
People who believe in god or gods, whatever they might be, had no real evidence of them truly existing. That was called faith. It was my job to believe without ever being persuaded. And I didn't believe, not at first. I didn't want to, because it was so different from my box in which I had built a window to look at him. He never gave me a push, never agitated me to believe and, to tell the truth, never even hinted that there was something to believe in. Yet, I started to have faith, faith in seemingly nothing but a mere mortal, who had never said he was something more. I was curious, but he didn't care. He told me nothing. I asked, I whined, I begged him to tell me, but he pretended oblivious. How could I believe when the other did everything to assure me there was nothing to believe in? As weird as it sounds I was bound to believe eventually, not by awareness, but by simple faith. I could have been disappointed, in fact it was more likely than the opposite. And still I decided to believe, no matter what the chances of being wrong were. It didn't take me long to tell him.
What happened next was an explosion after explosion. He came out of his shell. He was beautiful, he had a fierce crimson hair and eyes with the color bole. It was almost like he was glowing light and in short, he looked like a God. He pulled me with him, out of the mist I didn't even know was surrounding me, into a whole new existence. He pulled me into whole new worlds, into another universe and I followed him wanting him to take me from the bottom of my heart. He turned my little world around, painted my sky with the colors of neon and showed me shapes I didn't even know that existed. He showed me everything and he showed it at the speed of a supersonic. He was perfect and he was there, he was close and he was ready to slow down if I felt the need to. But I didn't and I know he knew it, but he wanted to give me a change to withdraw. I would have never left, he soon became my everything and all. He was no light in the darkness, he was a blast that enlightened everything leaving no room for the dark. It was a countless mount of fireworks, new ones blowing up until forever. To me, he was a God.
What people do when their god dies? To how many people that even happens? He was internal, like a god should be, but he didn't last. And so my world was shaken, stumped and scrambled and I had nothing left since I lost my everything. I was lost, I was scared and confused, I didn't know what to do. I searched and searched, but nothing could ever be even compared to my God. And it made me even more scared. I returned to the shadows of my box, built a brick wall in front of my window too afraid to face the rest of the world on my own. But everything I had, had lost their value. The everything I had before him was now nothing. And I didn't want to have it back, all I wanted was the one I had lost. So what do you do when your God dies? I waited for it to get better, but it got worse. I let people get near me, but eventually pushed them away for I wanted no one but him. I was ill, physically and mentally, and I couldn't take it. I forget everything, all I could think about was him and the things he showed me, things that I didn't want if I couldn't have him too. And I decided to refuse to live without him.
Just maybe he wasn't just a God for me.