I saw the stars
At the end of a bad day and the beginning of a new one.
I sit in the back seat of my mom's car, on the way to drop my father off at the airport.
It's early, a little past 4:10 in the morning.
My mom smoothly glides the car on the empty roads, my dog climbs onto my lap to look out the window when I get this sudden urge to look up.
I haven't looked up in so long. It's always the same sight every time; dark skies, smog rolling in through the clouds.
But it's different this time
I look up and I gasp as I make out the tiny specks of light.
Stars…
After so long, after only seeing one or two once in a while, I make out at least ten from my window seat.
Twinkling like they just woke up from a deep sleep.
I turn to my sister sitting across from me and tell her to look up.
And she keeps on staring and staring. Seeing stars so clearly after so long.
As I keep looking up, I feel as if I'm remembering the vastness of the infinite.
So long without seeing stars put me in a box with an understanding that there is nothing more.
That's it. Everything is in the box.
But now, I feel there are infinite, innumerable possibilities.
There is hope.
At the end of a bad day, where everything feels hopeless.
Twinkling stars brought that hope back.
How is it possible?
Is it really happening? My fissured heart, healing a single crack out of many?
It did happen. One crack at a time, right?
It's not just seeing the stars after so long that made me feel so much.
It was their brightness, their reliance, their steadiness.
That no matter how dark the clouds, the stars will always be there behind them. Twinkling away like they always do.
They will always be there.
Forever bright.
Forever steady.
Wait, was that a shooting star?
The street light blinded me for a bit.
But I'm sure it was one.
Another sign for hope.
Another crack out of many, healing.
