Story: Beneath The Surface
Everyone has emotions, or so the saying goes. Every person can feel anger, sadness, and happiness, just like everyone else. They naturally will feel sadness and grieve when tragedy strikes, or feel happy when being around their friends, or doing what they like best. They'll be angry when something goes wrong, or when they feel like fate is testing their patience. All of this is true, for most people, but Takami Kira is a completely different case.
As he grew up, he was constantly told not cry, and punished for expressing his feelings, or opinions. Everyday, he seemed so nice out in the public when he went off, and when he was by himself at home, he was a seemingly calm person on the outside, on the exception of a few outbursts. However, on the inside... by no means, could there possibly have been even been some calamity at the slightest. And if there was, it was certainly drowned out by the many thoughts and emotions that swarmed his mind.
Ever since he could remember, he'd always had problems expressing his feelings to others. He didn't fully know how to communicate, or rather, he didn't know how to put all of it into words. And it hurt; more than any of them knew.
He had emotions, yes, but he couldn't fully grasp them. So many accursed questions went through his mind every time certain emotions were conveyed through his own body language. Like, even when he thought he was happy, there was still an empty feeling in his chest that told him otherwise. He would then question if he only smiled to fit in with everyone else(at times he felt himself struggling to, but forced it anyway), and because it was a good gesture, and it only seemed right. But if that was so, when someone else was chuckling about a joke which he got and would normally be funny to him, at times it didn't bring out much emotion in him, so he simply laughed to fit in.
He could never figure out why he cried at times, either. Even when something truly sad happened around him, or someone died, he honestly didn't what he was doing. At times he felt nothing, even when his own father died. The only reason he cried then was because he was seeing everyone else crying, and it had just sort of rubbed off on him..and well as the 'routine change', despite how much he truly wanted to actually cry for all the right reason. He'd always wanted to be able to feel the loss and sadness along with them, or at least to be able to empathize with them, and to be able to offer to shoulder the burden with them, proving he was their and could sympathize with their pain.
But he didn't... He wanted to want that understanding, but he couldn't, and no matter how hard he tried to, he never would be able to, for that was probably the hardest emotion for him to even fathom. Every time, when he thought he was actually sad for once, those voices in his head told him that it wasn't sadness, rather, just frustration caused by the fact that he hadn't expected it. In other words, the let down and change in plans. Well, that's all he thought it could be.
Even when he felt frustrated, upset, or anxious, or even when he was feeling emotions that would normally pull some strings within you, he felt them, but couldn't cry, no matter what. His body would forcefully bottle back all of those emotions, and tears, no matter how much he suffered mentally, until he basically had a mental breakdown.
He couldn't figure out why, but when he did cried, there were always so many emotions, which confused him. He could feel frustration, anxiety, hopelessness, loneliness, jealousy, uncertainty, angst, doubt, and dread, as if the whole world was against him, then afterward, he just went back to bottling back the emotions.
He'd always wanted someone to be able to go to; someone that he knew he could trust, but he knew it was empty wishes, because he couldn't read facial expressions, nor could he read body language that well, like others could, so he couldn't tell what some one was truly thinking, therefore, he couldn't truly trust them from his heart.
Then there was the fact that he wanted friends, but at the same time, he didn't want them. Well, he did have friends, but it offered him no relief. When they were gone, it left him feeling lost and incomplete, but when he was with them, he constantly got to feeling extremely uncomfortable, and frustrated. He often felt out of place with his supposed 'friends'. Aren't you suppose to be able to easily and honestly express yourself around a friend? Shouldn't you be able to rely on them, too? Should you be able to talk in comfort, rather than keeping you mouth shut, in fear that they'll judge you?
Even when he talked to someone, it didn't make him feel any better. If anything, it only made him feel worse, knowing that they could do nothing to help, but only offer kind and encouraging words, which offered him no relief, either. He wished he could take the advise to heart, but what did it mean to take something to heart? What did it feel like?
There was also a problem with his faith, he can't fully comprehend his own faith and beliefs. What did he truly believe? Was he really a believer, or did he just follow others? Did he make right choices because it was just that, or did he do it because he WANTED to? What DID he want? Did he really desire to help people, or God? Did he truly, FROM THE HEART, desire to help even himself? How could God forgive him if he couldn't forgive himself? How DID he forgive himself? He was always taking heed into what other people say. What made the most sense is what he chose to say and 'believe'. What went along with science in other words, and what he could see was the only thing that could be.
He wanted to WANT to believe, but couldn't, no matter how hard he tried. He couldn't grasp any type of faith, in other words he had no opinion of his own, and just went with the flow. He wanted to acknowledge God's existence, but he felt nothing from the heard, or mind that told him that he was really there.
When he 'prayed', it was just empty words, that meant nothing, no matter how much he wanted to mean them.
If that wasn't bad enough, his own family, and friends of his family; heck, even people he didn't know, were constantly doting on his brother. Everyone around him seemed so attached to him. While he, himself, felt practically ignored. It really irritated him to no end (Irritated? Maybe made him jealous? Upset him? he didn't know). His brother had once referred to himself as 'untalented', and seemed depressed.
"Why did that irritate him?", you may ask. It brought true anger to him every time he thought about it. ALL he, himself had was writing skills, and art skills (NOT CREATIVE SKILLS), and social skills, while Riku had everything; high comprehension levels, he was smart, intelligent, academically gifted, he had friends, and so much more, even a little bit of art skills. He had no right to be depressed, as all he was lacking was social skills!
What confused him even more was when he was complimented for his art pieces, those compliment didn't fill the void at all, instead of making him happy like it should've. He sighed, knowing it was worthless to over think it. He had so many problems, but, at least there was something in the world, that took his mind off of reality. People would just called it being lazy, but in his eyes, it was different. Anime, strange as it may sound, was the only thing that took his mind off of the rest of the world. It was the only thing in the world, that he thought truly made him happy; that he was actually ever passionate about. In someways, though, he supposed it did make it worse considering that it wasn't real, and never would be.
A/N: What did you think?Everything in this story, I suffer from. I'm still so confused with it all. Could this be depression? If someone knows, please tell me.