“Stars can’t shine without darkness”
Despite living in a big city for the past year, I’ve only recently noticed something. I’ve noticed that from the window of my flat, it’s practically impossible to see the stars. Due to the city smog and the constant artificial light, all I can see is a blackened sky with patches of slightly lighter sky, and if it’s a ‘clear’ night, I can see the moon. This saddens me quite a bit as in the past, in the town and then the city I lived in before I lived here, I could see the stars and all their constellations. I enjoyed looking up on a cloudless night and seeing them twinkling above me and it was a sort of comfort to know that they were always there, waiting and ready for those nights I needed to see something raw, real and beautiful.
After feeling sad about this for quite a long time on Saturday night, I started to realise something. Just because I couldn’t see the stars, it didn’t mean that they weren’t there. They were there, I just couldn’t see them at that precise moment. If I really focused my eyes on the night sky, I could see what looked like a remnant of a star attempting to break out of it’s prison as it glittered briefly at me. But it was over in a flash and once again I was left with a starless sky.
For many of us, just because someone is no longer visible in our lives, whether that’s because of physical barriers or because we’ve lost track of time and forgotten their importance, we forget that they existed or are still existing. In the same way that the stars can’t be clearly seen from my window, just because you can’t see a person anymore, it doesn’t mean that they’re not still there on the outskirts. They’re still raw, and real, and beautiful, and they’re a still a part of you.
That’s the logic I want to embrace. Instead of worrying that I can’t see the stars in the place that I am at the moment, I’m going to smile and remember that they’re still up there, getting ready to smile right back at me one day. The smog will disappear, and I’ll see them twinkling and proud, but for now, it’s enough to remember that they still exist in my memory.