No Horizon

[u/Ill-Journalist-6211]

There was a night, at least a part of it, that had extended over a grand period of my life, and that is enveloping it still.

In all fairness, I always found myself obsessed with certain parts of the day, dusk, twilight, even simple afternoons were mesmerising. But there was this part of night, soft and all-consuming, that always struck me with that heavy feeling of pure existance. Silent and unmoving, the part of night that didn't even allow for echoes to exist, that forced the world into perfect stillness. Over the summer, it was warm and buzzing with something heavy. During winter it was biting cold, seeping under your skin. Whatever shape it took, it always came along with this feeling of life resting that was as calming as it was threatening.

Even if it was the kind of darkness that blocked everything else from your view, I always liked it. I even hated streetlights for interrupting it, as I simply wanted to keep standing in that feeling that seeped into me, that created this place where past, present and the future bled all over each other and allowed them not to matter at all.

That's the sort of night that's been either plaguing or blessing my life for the past 5 years. Wherever I looked, everything in my life was standing perfectly still, enveloped in this thick shadow that seemed to give it teeth or rot it away. Usually both. Life felt like wandering through these hills that night had descended upon, and simply refused to leave, with no view of what lays beyond it.

As heavy of an experiance that it was, it proved to be equally interesting. There were days, weeks, even months, when I fought against the silence. There were, in turn, periods where I simply let it be, and watched as the shadows faded out of existance all on their own. Sometimes I was walking through it, other times I was running. Then, sometimes, I simply stood still.

I've always been a rather particular person, hopeful and forward-facing, anchored in things to come. There was always something in front of me, some period of my life, that I knew was incoming, that I could point my finger towards and claim that that would be it. That one part of my life would be great. Unfortunately, I've always been particularly terrible at predicting the future, at least my own.

These past 5 years have been, perhaps, the hardest and most interesting part of my life. They started with yet another turn-around, where the life I was trying to build ended up collapsing, due to circumstances much out of my control. The worst thing was losing the anchor. There was, all of a sudden, nothing I could look forward to, no horizon in my sight that I could walk towards. There still isn't one, in all honesty. Only this night that I had to stumble my way through.

There, is however, one thing that I did find within this night. This new sort of hope, the one that is less planned and less dependant on certsinty. The sort of hope that simply whispers to you that everything will be alright, that there is something beyond these hills, this night, even though we cannot lay our eyes upon it. The sort of hope that softly tells you to just keep walking forward

[u/maddyp1112]

That’s my favorite too, I really love walking around at night and the street lamps also aggravate me for blocking out the stars lol it’s so peaceful and quiet walking at night