I sit around the campfire on a distant island off of Michigan. Surrounded by friends and strangers. Enjoying, laughing, and sharing moments with each other. The light gleams in the night sky, shining a way into the corner of my eye. I stare into the fire in front of me that's slowly warming my cold feet and I stop. Not moving. Not blinking. Not feeling, not there. The fire fills my body with warmth, cooking me to a pleasant temperature. I look up quickly as I gasp for air, as if the fire's heat took the air straight out of my lungs. Still looking at the sky, I see darkness; great darkness. Darkness broken up with small gleaming white ***** of light. As I scan the night sky, I feel home. I feel safe, comforted by the vastness of the sky. I feel as if I belong up there in the sky. Knowing I came from them. Knowing I am made up of the very same crucial ingredients that created this universe, those stars, that sky, this planet, and me. I know this, accept it, appreciate it, love it. But I don't know why I am down here and why those stars are up there. Why I feel so insignificant, when that star is full of importance and wonder. Why I feel so lost, so alone in a world full of connections and passion. A world full of beauty, adventure, knowledge, and love. I get lost in this train of thought. I realized I must of been looking at the sky a long time because my friend sitting next to me was saying my name repeatedly and I only started to faintingly make out her words. I don't respond, but instead look down. Then look back at that fire, then back at her. Back to reality. This reality. I then realize this is why I feel lost.
