The clarity of staring at the sun

By: Victoria Diaz.

A modern poet once wrote “Our coming-of-age has come and gone. Suddenly the summer, it’s clear” about the clarity of the sun and what its light can shine on. New opportunities, new beginnings and nothing to do and everything to live. A road never taken that looks with a new light. But summer also means sadness, starting again while thinking that you are getting better but then you are crying again in your bathtub surrounded by roses and your bubble bath. And you wonder when it got bad again, you were getting better actually better. You were breathing again and now you are not, and the world outside it looks so pretty so full of hope and you can’t stop crying.

Everything crumbles around you and you have no energy for a new beginning, you need help but you aren’t sure who could give it to you. You go outside and feel the grass on your feet, the twirls of your white dress, your braids in your hair with the sun touching your skin. You put your hand above your head to not stare at the sun directly and then… you do. And you realise that to love you is to suffer you. You simply are not made for this world, you surely don’t belong but can’t get out either. And you want to scream but your throat hurts and no tea and honey can help you with that. They are shaky breaths but no tears, at least not yet. You look at the sun again, trying to understand how it got this bad again. This time your hand doesn't protect your eyes and you close them, feeling the sun radiating in your skin. In your dress, in your life.

Maybe after summer things will get better, there’s always time to start again. Maybe hope hasn’t left you completely, maybe you are still breathing. Maybe the act of trying is the act of hope in itself. Maybe all you can do is keep going. How? Well that’s the million dollar question. Maybe there’s no answer, maybe you just keep going. Trying is hope… or at least I pray that it is.