an endless search...

I am looking for something amidst ruptures, penitence, copious tears and sobs; something I have lost, may be eons ago; but know not what it is. Something whose sheer presence would imprison my awful thoughts; something that would touch up my unseen wounds and bruises.; a sponge that would absorb my tears. Is that then a missing link, a talisman? They say I have not lost it and have it already somewhere hidden inside me. That remains to be explored. But I need it desperately before embarking on such an expedition. But sometimes a thought crosses my mind that I would get used to everything without it. Why do I search then??? What could be the reason? Is it then for the sheer pleasure of it?