Creaking stairs try to tell me not to go, to stay inside. They say I better sleep, I have school tomorrow. I ignore them and walk on parts of steps I have memorized so they don’t squeak. The door tells me not to go, to stay inside. It says I better sleep, that I have school tomorrow. It stands in my way like a giant barrier, trying to intimidate me into staying. But as I open it, and the night air surrounds me it tells me to stay, not inside, but to stay with it. The sky is dark, almost black, but tiny white dots light up the sky like Christmas lights in a dark room. The moon smiles down at me. My feet are moving on autopilot, my legs going through the all too familiar memories of walking to my spot. I lay down, and the soft grass accepts me. The sky talks to me through the twinkling of stars. It says that I’m okay. Just breathe, I’m okay. Light billions of years old shines down on me, twinkling like a summer's day, yet cooling my mind like lemonade. The clouds are nowhere to be seen, and everything falls into place. I smile, and I feel okay. I breath. The sky lets me know that for now, it is okay to just be. And I understand that. It is okay to just be, along with the stars, the moon, and all the planets. They understand me because once, in the beginning of time, they were forming too. Their friends left, orbiting faster or exploding into a supernova. They felt alone at one time , and they wanted to scream at one time too. They flared and crashed too. Once upon a time they felt like they were overheated, magma spilling over their edges too. They’ve learned that sometimes it’s okay to let go, and just be. I’m crying now but i’m smiling. I’m smiling because i’m okay and I’m crying because I haven’t felt okay in a long time. The night understands, and I understand too.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.