Stephan was raised in a extremely catholic family. He always went to church on Sundays and he was a very active part of the community. When he was old enough he decided to become a priest. His family supported him, and his grandmother was very proud. His friends didn't understand at first, but if he thought he would be happy they weren't anyone to judge. He studied for several years, and he excelled, because he loved God, and he was doing it for Him.
He fulfilled his dream, and became one of the youngest priests in the country. He was so busy, during his first years, that he could have the luxury of ignoring the emptiness inside him. However, as the years went by, Stephan could feel the hole inside of him widening, keeping him awake at night. He tried to fill it with prayer, but it only made it grew even bigger. What was happening? Wasn't God always the answer? He started thinking he was a failure, and his sermons only grew darker and darker.
On a specially bad sleepless night, Stephan donned his street clothes and drove to another town. He entered the first bar he saw. He didn't know what to ask for, he hadn't drunk anything in ages, so he simply picked the first thing he saw; a whisky. He sat there in silence, sipping from the glass when a woman approached him. She was around his own age, and pretty. Her name was Melissa and she was a psychologist. They talked for hours about their problems, specially Stephan, although he never mentioned he was a priest. Melissa invited him to her place, and he, to his own surprise, accepted. The following morning the emptiness inside him was gone. He thought he should feel guilty, but he didn't.
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