I Can’t Always Be The Sun

photography of sun glaring through the hole of finger
Daoudi Aissa / Unsplash

I can’t always be the sun. The one who always smiles.  The one who brings warmth to everyone and everything around her. The one who is the sunshine and light in a room.

Sometimes, I am tired. I want to rub my eyes in the morning and sit in a grey fog. A place no one can find me. A place light can’t touch. Sometimes, I am dark clouds that hang in the sky like a heavy peach. The peach that is too ripe, and is ready to fall at any moment. To drop to the ground and return to the earth. Sometimes, I want to hide behind sheets of rain, and crystalline blankets of snow.

I have days where I am the impenetrable humidity that brings summer storms. I am the threat of a downpour. My chin hangs low, and my bottom lip trembles at every rumble with the thunder. A storm looms, and I am the storm’s ghost. I haunt the entire day with warnings to stay inside. To avoid me. To please steer clear of me. To let me be.

When I finally fall, I am drops of saltwater that come from red eyes. I pour all of the saltwater out of my heart until I can’t pour any more. I am leftover puddles of the sadness in my heart and the chill of moisture on your skin.

But she, the sun, rests. And hibernates. To come back when she can to bring a little hope. To bring those puddles back to the sky. She knows that there are people who care for her. Who love her. Who welcome her coronas, and who understand when she needs to hide behind clouds.

I can’t always be the sun, but for the ones I love, for you, I will always do my best. TC mark

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