Stars

Why do the most horrible things always come unexpectedly?

Sitting on my hands in the car last night, I felt totally emotionless. Like the sky after a torrent of rain, I felt colorless and bleak.

Resting my face against the cold glass, I looked upward. The sky was filled with stars, more than I could possibly take in in a single glance. Somehow they made me feel better, the trauma of recent events growing insignificant in comparison to this vastness.

Suddenly the stars were my friends, always there for me, even when I can't see them. They seemed to be up there waiting to see what I would do next, assuring me that they would be cheering me on. They understood why I felt the way I did, and though they couldn't say a word, it felt good that they had seen it all.

Then I had another thought. Surely for every shining star I saw, a person stood somewhere in their grief, looking heavenward. Certainly their troubles outweigh mine a million to one. I felt connected to those people.

Focusing on one especially brilliant star, I wanted to believe that someone else was actually looking at it too, and at this same moment, was wishing for me!