Mourning Broke

The moon skittered from the encroaching sun as stars melted into the gray five am morning. Lights flickered in houses unknown, their occupants readying their day. Streetlights began to sleep for the day. Morning was breaking and so was I. I don't know when the cold started. Or the sleepless nights. Or the yearning need to stare into existence, hoping to will meaning from nothing. Part and parcel, one would dare say. I shivered. Even though summer was young, I no longer was. The dewey mornings had a chill and I steadied my shaking body to adjust the beanie on my head. I buttoned the top of my jean jacket. I was dressed like a transient. But I wasn't going anywhere. A car roared to life in the distance. I saw headlights create a quick shadow across a stray dog. My deck croaked as I shifted my weight again, this time to see the sun cresting the mountains. My eyes lit with fire from the awakening day. So many things found it easy to be alive. And I felt nothing. The dark sky washed into a pale blue. I wanted to feel something, but that's very difficult when one has been stripped of peace. Nothing could calm me. When the depression started, I slept more than enough. I couldn't even do that properly anymore. When I tried, I would see . . . see everything. And it was a horrifying abyss of emptiness. It was existential, it was a crisis, it was nothing. I didn't want to die, I didn't want to l live, I didn't want anything. But I was growing. Today, I stepped outside. Today, I wanted something. My hand cradled the cup of coffee I had purchased from the gas station barely an hour ago. It was lukewarm. Like this very morning. I wanted warmth, physically and spiritually. I ached to find meaning again. To have a night where I didn't gaze into the very nothingness of our planet. It was small, but I was analyzing a fragment of anything. As the last star in the sky fell into a blue stupor, I realized that we are nothing and it was glorious. Specks of light in the sky could be from a dying star. Could the light from my eyes be from a dying soul, an essence gone supernova? How brilliant! To shine just before expiration! And it was in this, I smiled. I sipped my coffee. It was bitter but very sweet. One day, my mourning will break.