My fears love the night. Under the cloak of sunlight they are hard to see. The day blurs their edges, makes them soft. They can only whisper and mumble during waking hours. After dark they realize their voice. They still whisper. But their soft voice is painfully clear. Their message is understood.
You are not enough.
You've wasted too much time.
You've missed your shot.
Your life is as good as over.
But daylight comes and the world seems safe again. If I could expose the dark corners of my mind I think my fears might flee. But I've always loved the darkness. It's scary. It's bleak. It hides me. It lays me open for fears I befriended long ago.. The night is a world of unseeable futures and altered selves. I'm not short and slightly odd looking in my nighttime fantasies. I'm whatever I imagine. I'm everything except what is possible. My fears keep those dreams away. Reality is the stuff of daylight and hard work and drive. The night is where my subconscious plays with possibilities without the weight of effort.
I love and dread the night. I only accept the light. Maybe I'll learn to love it too. But likely, it will continue to be a time to look forward to fears and dreams and the impossible.
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