I checked the time, and it was already so late. I was yawning as I was about to fall asleep. I dragged myself to my bed. I managed to fall asleep after a few seconds.
I woke up after a long rest. I checked my phone and I had dozens of notifications.
It was the same friends who messaged me earlier. We were also interested in chess. I made plans with them.
I then checked the time. It was 3:30 PM. I woke up so late. I was so absorbed in chess so late.
I missed the chess tournament at 11 AM. Why did I practice chess so much? Just to miss the tournament? I wasted my time…
My heart felt like it was aching. I couldn’t help but give a hollow laugh in my room. No one could hear it. Except for the boundless abyss.
I read the rest of my notifications. It looked like no would would hear from me soon either.
“Hey, wake up!” A couple of friends spammed similar messages.
“The tournament begins soon.” Another friend messaged.
“You were the most excited out of us.”
“Where are we meeting, boys?” Someone in the group chat messaged a few hours later, at 2:40 PM.
“The soccer field.”
“Hey, ■■■■, you’re late! Where are you?” Someone asked me.
Finally, I reached the bottom of the messages. It was 3:45 PM. I decided to finally text back.
“Yo, my bad, I just woke up.” I tried explaining.
“...” A few minutes later, a friend responded. “As expected. Honestly, I don’t know why we still try; you never show up.”
“Well, see ya, hope you have a good one...” A friend disappointingly replied.
At the moment, I thought nothing of it. However, it would be the last message in the group chat. They stopped talking or trying to plan things with me. It was the last time I’d talk with them.
A few days passed by. I stopped getting notifications. I didn’t see anyone. I didn’t talk with anyone.
I just anxiously opened new doors alone. Unfortunately, I couldn’t bear opening any door fully. I still couldn’t forget the top shelf. I thought that staying in a room too long would only be a huge waste of time.
I didn’t want to prevent myself from closing other doors. That top shelf was proof of it. Because of that one thing, I was so focused on one thing, I missed out on so many things because of it. I didn’t even enjoy that.
I was hesitant. It was my largest regret. Even so, I knew I couldn’t just leave it alone forever. I had to do something about it.
I tried building up courage one more time. I had to. However, I couldn’t.
Quickly, and hesitatingly, I shifted my mind to something else. I once more searched for a hobby to do. I frantically hunted for a hobby.
I searched my room. No good, it couldn’t bring my mind off my regret. I was already bored with these hobbies. I had completed them.
Chess was boring, the missed tournament made me lose my motivation. The guitar wouldn’t make me forget. Poetry would just make me write about that regret. Songs would make me sing about that regret.
Distraught, I crazily pursued something else. Something that could make me forget it. Something that could fill up the hollowness of my heart. I needed something to run for, a hobby to hunger for, a pastime to distract my hands, a diversion for my mind.
I rummaged through my closet, except for the top shelf, there was nothing. They were the do-later hobbies, but now it seemed like it was the done hobbies. The hobbies I wouldn’t visit ever again.
I rummaged through my home and room for anything, something, a recreation to stop wondering. Any hobby, even for a moment, was enough.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Once again, I faced my soccerball. More memories poured through my mind. It was supposed to be a diversion, well, it was, but not how I wanted.
Instead of remembering the top shelf, I remembered my old friends. They stopped talking to me. They were the only friends I had left.
“Hahaha, am I all alone now?” I laughed with tears pouring down.
I finally realized how lonely I was. Trying to run away from my regrets only led me to have more regrets. I lazily walked to my bed and collapsed on it.
I was wiping off my tears as my mind blanked. I stared at the wall with blurry eyes. I didn’t know what to do.
Hobbies were how I made friends, but now I couldn’t find any hobbies. No pastime would give me a sense of accomplishment anymore.
I remained for a while, unsure of what to do, until a thought came to my mind. It mustn’t solely be hobbies, right?
I hysterically got up to my computer. I tried finding entertainment to make me forget. In spite of scrolling through videos to watch, games to play, and novels to read, after trying a bit of everything, I forgot what I liked.
Despite the endless entertainment, nothing was to my liking. Everything was sort of interesting, just like every hobby that I tried for more experience. Regardless, that also meant that since everything was mildly interesting, none were actually of my own preference.
I couldn’t pick anything, nothing, none of the endless entertainment could entertain me. I was still so bored. Boredom made me remember my regret even more.
Next, I tried finding jobs. I went on Indeed and searched for what job a student like me could find. They too seemed boring to me, nothing that could keep my mind off of ‘that’.
Nothing worked. I completely depleted all my ideas. The infinite only served to force me to remember.
Exhausted, I only had one option left. The option that I kept running from. The one I shouldn’t have run away from.
Ultimately, I opened the closet door. I faced the top shelf. It was my last option. Nothing else worked.
There were photos of my young self winning tournaments. In the older ones, I won gold medals. Later, I only won silver medals. Then, I only won bronze medals. Eventually, I couldn’t even score top three; I only got participation medals.
It was something I spent years of my whole life solely dedicated to. Yet, despite my endless study of it, I seemed to have gotten worse, or perhaps everyone got better; I couldn’t tell.
Because of that, I had no life outside of that one subject. I didn’t have any friends back then, not that I have any now either. I couldn’t enjoy life. I wasn’t allowed to play video games, try new hobbies, or practice a new skill.
I felt that I missed out on so much because of it. I didn’t enjoy it either. It was just something I was good at, and my parents noticed, so I was forced to keep at it.
I suddenly remembered a fleeting memory. It was about five or so years ago. I wasn’t close to anyone. I was in the library, endlessly studying for competitions. I was sitting by the window. No one else was as stressed as I was.
Some were studying for exams, yet they took breaks; they hadn’t studied as long as I did. Others in the library were reading books for fun.
I heard some of them talking about fictional books they enjoyed. Oh, how I longed to read those too, but I was forced to use all my time to only read books related to the competition and to study. I had no free time.
Outside the window, I heard other students play sports. I looked out the window. They seemed to be having so much fun while I was stuck here, needing to study something I did not enjoy.
I wasted my life for years just like that. For years, I kept it up, hoping to please my parents until I couldn’t handle it anymore.
I finally had enough courage to quit about two or three years ago. After that, I wandered through endless hobbies, wanting to catch up.
And now, after years, I had no choice but to try that hobby once again. The emptiness had overcome my regret.
I grabbed the science textbooks and brought them to my desk. I sat down on my chair and tried to ready myself.
My hands were shaking as I brought it closer to the textbooks. I managed to place my palm on the textbook.
Yet, that was all I could do. Even this, I couldn’t bring myself to complete. I thought that everything would be solved if I could do this.
I still hesitated on opening the textbook. Just like the countless other hobbies, I could no longer open the door even further.
This was the furthest I could put my foot through the door. The door has been stuck for two years; it won’t budge now.
As I tried to get my hand to move to open the door, water droplets fell on my book. It took a while for me to realize what it was. It was tears.
I put my hand on my face, and only then did I notice I was crying. I was pouring out everything, squeezing out what was left of my near-empty heart.
I was as frozen as a statue. One hand remained on my face, the other on the textbook as it was getting wetter by the second. I was frowning as tears streamed down my face.
I was completely lost about what to do with my life from now on. I had lost my old life. It wasn’t just science; everything else was also impossible for me to start again.
There were so many hobbies to do. Too many. The world was too large. I liked it that way. Nonetheless, I seemed to have exhausted every possibility that I was willing to try.
I preferred my world so large, but when faced with it, I was paralyzed. I froze in front of the infinite.
I, too, was unable to deal with my emptiness compared to the dense ocean of possibilities.
Do you want a part 4 to this short story?
