Nov 2015
Last night, I went for a drive. The last text I sent was a lie I told my mother, that I was going to get ice cream with some friends. Then, I powered down my phone and started up my car.
My head was buzzing and my heart was aching. I needed it to stop. So, I hopped on a seemingly unending road, turned my music up to drown out my thoughts, and I just drove.
The city of Omaha slowly vanished behind me as the shadows of country roads set in. There were hardly any cars accompanying me on my thoughtless journey, and for once, I actually felt okay with the loneliness.
I was completely alone and the sky was completely dark.
It was then I realized how much beauty the night beholds. It is neither frightening nor overwhelming. It is as comfortable as home and as welcoming as an embrace.
That night, the darkness saved me. It was there, enveloped in the night, that I forgot about my issues. I didn't think about my inadequacy or my desolation.
My problems were nowhere to be seen and my feelings could not keep up with the pace of my car. I was so at peace that I could have driven forever. The darkness provided an escape from life and all the hardships that come with it.
Truth be told, I didn't want to go back. I wanted to disappear under the blanket of the night. I never wanted to be seen again.
The night and I, we belong together. The night is my newfound friend and I never want to leave its side. There was only one slight problem: morning would come eventually.
The sunrise was inevitable and darkness, my companion, would surely vanish. The rays of the sun would illuminate my vacancy. People would notice I was gone.
So, grudgingly, I turned my car around and headed back into the city. I prepared to once again face humanity and my problems became as evident as the increasing light. And, I made a promise to the darkness.
I vowed I would never forget the hospitality of the night. I swore I would return to the darkness, for it has been so good to me. Someday, the darkness will completely overtake me, and it will be as if I am welcoming an old friend home.
My head was buzzing and my heart was aching. I needed it to stop. So, I hopped on a seemingly unending road, turned my music up to drown out my thoughts, and I just drove.
The city of Omaha slowly vanished behind me as the shadows of country roads set in. There were hardly any cars accompanying me on my thoughtless journey, and for once, I actually felt okay with the loneliness.
I was completely alone and the sky was completely dark.
It was then I realized how much beauty the night beholds. It is neither frightening nor overwhelming. It is as comfortable as home and as welcoming as an embrace.
That night, the darkness saved me. It was there, enveloped in the night, that I forgot about my issues. I didn't think about my inadequacy or my desolation.
My problems were nowhere to be seen and my feelings could not keep up with the pace of my car. I was so at peace that I could have driven forever. The darkness provided an escape from life and all the hardships that come with it.
Truth be told, I didn't want to go back. I wanted to disappear under the blanket of the night. I never wanted to be seen again.
The night and I, we belong together. The night is my newfound friend and I never want to leave its side. There was only one slight problem: morning would come eventually.
The sunrise was inevitable and darkness, my companion, would surely vanish. The rays of the sun would illuminate my vacancy. People would notice I was gone.
So, grudgingly, I turned my car around and headed back into the city. I prepared to once again face humanity and my problems became as evident as the increasing light. And, I made a promise to the darkness.
I vowed I would never forget the hospitality of the night. I swore I would return to the darkness, for it has been so good to me. Someday, the darkness will completely overtake me, and it will be as if I am welcoming an old friend home.
