I’ve come to the conclusion that loneliness is the only constant in this world.

It’s an unpopular opinion, to be sure, but one that the experiences in my life seem to verify again and again. Just when you think that you’ve found respite, that’s when everything collapses.

The party’s over and it feels like you’ve just barely arrived. Left in the dark once more, balloons deflated and streamers fallen, you ponder how the world could have turned so quickly from one extreme to another. And, settling deeper into yourself, you remember that this darkness is almost comforting in its cruel familiarity.

The darkness, after all, is where we rest. Beyond time, in birth and death.

Perhaps if we can come to terms with the dark in this life, the transitions won’t be quite so hard. Maybe, just maybe, it becomes easier and easier to see the spark of light in every nocturnal situation. For, after all, the further one journeys from the artificial light of the city, the brighter are the effervescent stars forever burning in the sky. They never go out, not truly, not like the incandescence of man made light.

For when a star does die, it still shines on, spreading across the galaxy.

They say that some stars we see in this era no longer exist in physical reality. And yet, their million year old light still reaches us, still courses through us. It bounces off our retinas, resonating their ancient songs in our bones.

Maybe, the point of loneliness is to remember our true power. Maybe we are as powerful as the stars.

Maybe the darkness is our cue to learn to shine again.