The Sky Spilled All Its Secrets

It was Monday. I was tired from work and had eaten everything I could find in the fridge, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t be hungry again in the next three hours. I didn’t feel like interacting with anyone. There was so much I needed to do, yet all I wanted was to lie down and think, maybe cry, if the tears weren’t too shy to fall in front of my friend. The darkness felt soft and quiet, almost polite. If this had been three weeks earlier, the sobs wouldn’t sound so terrible because I had the flu and it would have blended in.

I curled my toes and hugged my knees to my chest under the duvet. I tried listening to my favorite songs, but they sounded like noise. I felt lost. It was summer, yet the clouds were heavy, the breeze was gentle, and the sun had finally gone to sleep. At 11 p.m., I was still wondering if I could feel the peace the heavenly bodies seemed to hold. That was when I decided to go outside.

I slipped my jacket over my nightwear, slid into my flip-flops, and stepped out. I didn’t know exactly where I was heading, but I needed to breathe, to think, and to confess out loud how I was feeling—to the stars, to the wind, to my own mind, and to God, though He already knew. I wandered into the park, let the wind pull my thoughts out of my head, and began to weep. In that moment, I realized my fear of the dark had always been an illusion. Here I was in the dead of night, outside, alone, cold and fear was the last thing on my mind.

Through my teary eyes, I looked up. Maybe I was hoping to see falling stars so I could make a wish. But no, the moon was barely there. I tried to make shapes out of the clouds, but they kept shifting. That’s when I noticed the stars. They seemed to exist in a world of their own. I thought about how many secrets they must carry and wondered if mine would be safe with them.

I began to speak, softly, as if whispering to them. I told them about my day, my plans, my family, and most importantly, my broken heart. I cried harder. But when I finished, I felt lighter. I didn’t know if they had truly listened or if it was all in my imagination. Then the drizzle began as if to say, I’ve heard your confession; now go to sleep.

I walked slowly across the grass, looking up until the stars faded from sight. When I reached home, I had already forgotten why I went out in the first place. I climbed into bed, curled myself up again, and slept peacefully.