starry night.

oddly enough, i‘d never been a night sky kind of person. i preferred the day, where everything was basked in light and people were lively. where the world felt open and welcoming. this was quite an oddity, as a night sky was apparently much more preferable than the brightly-lit one in which i would rather sit. i did not see what was so desirable about a dark canvas without adornment. it’s as if we were all plunged in the darkness of a box. uncomfortable. restricted. in all truthfulness, i did not as much enjoy the day as much as i simply squirmed in discomfort at the thought of the night.

she, however, had always liked the night better. “look at the stars,” she would trumpet at me while we were both laying down on a grassy hill. then, i’d look up and tell her that i don’t see anything and simply tell her that i had no idea what she was talking about. it was the truth, but maybe i simply saw nothing because i didn’t look hard enough, as i was not remotely interested by them. but i still went stargazing with her every single night, because she was rarely ever so enthralled by anything that wasn’t these stars she loved.

and although i could not quite see the stars, i could see her image clearly; her typically straight posture would give in to fatigue and she’d kneel on the grass, slumped over. her head would be tilted up, and i would be able to see her eyes sparkle ever so slightly. her lips would be parted in her trance. it’d be too dark where we sat for us to clearly see each other, but in my head, i could picture her clearly in her childlike daze. although i went stargazing with her every day, i did not go for the stars. i went for her.

i suppose that custom never left me. i would still go visit the somewhat ominous night sky every day, trying to figure out how she saw the world. i must admit, i still did not particularly enjoy it, even then. but it was the only thing left of her.

and perhaps on days where the sky was clear and people have settled down, i would understand it a little. when it was half past midnight and everyone was already home but i was still wandering about in the vacant streets and empty parks, looking at the same stars which people who were here centuries ago looked at, i understood a little. when it’s been hours and i could feel dawn creeping up around the corner, ready to relieve us of darkness, yet i still had nowhere to go home to, i understood her a little.

truthfully, i never really understood her. her world was one of mystery to me. but i began to understand the stars, in the end, and i understood why she liked the night sky so much. and on a starry night where i would push back my fatigue and looked up to see a brightly lit sky, even brighter than the day, watching over me the way she would’ve if she were here, i liked it too.