Hasan the Schizoid [short story]

It took nearly a thousand days, but Hasan's insides are peacefully empty now.  
All the rubbish of childhood is gone. What used to trigger his discomfort, fails to elicit a reaction. His heart was washed with ice, humanity is kept at bay, and he wouldn't exchange this calmness for anything in their world.  
Bad memories stopped trying to resurface. All the negatives accumulated throughout the years were carefully, painfully, extracted, examined, rationalized and understood, then dealt with. The minuses were confronted, new positives were attached to them accordingly, and they happily turned into zeroes, disappearing into oblivion.  
Who knew that the disappearance of his mother would have that profound effect on him?  
Maybe *she* knew! Maybe finally, as a weird form of atonement, she realized that her existence was the flame that ignited his kerosene. How blind was he not to see it! It stands to reason. The only two episodes of mental breakdown were related to her inflammatory words & actions. Healing could only begin after exorcising the maternal presence.  
He got it all out. Cried, shouted, laughed. Physically too, losing the weight. The old cells are replaced by fresh ones.  
When she was around, he *never* could be himself! Walking on eggshells. As a kid he seriously thought she could read his mind. That's a constant prison cell he was carrying around. And now he has only himself, and his self is empty, and it's ideal.  
A man with no ego can't get angry. Can't be triggered or take offense. A man with no desires can't be enslaved. The bell jar wants the air to be pumped out. It was all the "stuff" that got him sick in the first place. All the baggage.  
Kid Hasan must have been overwhelmed by all the input. People wouldn't shut up! All the egos trying to assert themselves all the time. He didn't need to fill his inner vacuum with Stuff! He should have told them he liked the emptiness inside. They wouldn't have understood anyway. They abhor *their* inner vacuum.. that's why they are constantly stuffing their guts, their hearts, their memories, their wombs. They can't deal with nothingness. It drives them insane.. it makes them sick to be alone.  
Hasan matured when he finally knew they are incompatible. "It just won't work out, world. Let the breakup be amicable. Don't call me. Don't call on me"  
One day, after 3 years on gradual improvement, everything clicked. His muscles relaxed. His sense of touch was restored. He can stretch on the bed now. Before, his posture was unnecessarily awkward. He can enjoy feeling textures.. squeezing a pillow. Him and his body are close friends these days. Comfortable in his own skin, They were separate for decades, like Pazuzu possessing Regan and inhabiting her as a puppet, inhibiting her connection to her own senses. Now the separation is over, and Hasan is himself.