The night dawns on me as I glance up at
the stars: they combine into one. Each
an individual star, yet a sky full of them.
Kind of like this God blessed world.
There’s so many of us, each an individual, grouped into one mass
population on the earth. I wrap my arms
around myself for warmth, because who else will? And I continue to gaze at the star-filled
sky—mesmerized by the beauty—something I’ve found myself doing quite often
recently. I wonder to myself how many
other lone souls are imitating my exact actions right now. How many people are standing in the middle of
a field, in the middle of the night, feet planted, arms twisted. I don’t even know how I got here, or even
when I got here. But here I am, and
nothing sounds less appealing than leaving.
I tear my gaze off the stars and to the ground, contemplating the
comfortableness of it. Without too much
thought, my knees make the decision for me, slowly weakening and lowering me to
the soft grass below. Flat on my back,
hands folded over my stomach, the view of the stars is almost clearer, more
beautiful. I didn’t know it was
possible. I see so many stars; they
never end, and I would never in my life want them to.
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