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“Because at night, only half the world remains.” I count the lights. All the lights of the night. The red light at the intersection, trembling as if wet, even though it isn’t raining. Streetlight after streetlight. Taillights trailing off into the distance. The soft glow from the windows. Phones in the hands of people just arriving home, and people just about to go somewhere. Why is the night so beautiful? Why does it shine the way it does? Why is the night made up entirely of light?
The light at night is special because the overwhelming light of day has left us, and the remaining half draws on everything it has to keep the world around us bright.
If I thought about things long enough, I would always lose track of my own feelings, which left me with no choice but to proceed as usual, without taking any action.
“It’s like they say, trust is a two-way street. Reliance can be one-sided, though. Know what I mean? One side depends on the other. That’s not a partnership. And that’s why relationships based on reliance are pretty unstable. One little hiccup and everything could disappear.”
We remember some things out of nowhere, but so much of what happens, we never think about again.”
Sometimes a memory jumps out at you, even though almost everything is lost forever. But what if all the things that we can’t remember are actually the most important ones?”
Walking through the light, in all its openness, like on that first night years before. When I was in the strong light of the morning or the day, I thought about it being midnight somewhere in the world, and thought about the people living there. People who spent their nights alone, alone through the night.
