Streetlight

7

Wind passes by, as if it wants to bring freshness into the minds that stay and listen, to comfort them with a heartwarming, yet cold touch.
The sun is covered in clouds, but the sky is still bright, and there are tints of blue here and there.

Even worrysome souls would cool down under the bittersweet, yet calming atmosphere that filled the air, that just happens to present itself there, for no real reason.
Maybe it's simply because not many are outside today, since many think it will start to rain soon, maybe it's simply because it's just as quiet as it could have ever been. No busy roads, no kids are yelling.

The park of course, is also the same. Empty and dull, yet calm and refreshing. The filtered lights that hit the ground from the clouds above the sky make the park seem almost withered, even though there are plants all around.

And it's beautiful in its own way.

The single person that is in that park agrees with that thought.

He finds himself smiling ever so slightly to how cheesy the thought was. But he can't deny it, there's a charm, so very subtle, in all this.

He looks up in the sky, with his eyes squinting to the light oh so intense. Yet he doesn't feel pained or irritated from it, he just feels tired.
He clutches to his white sweatshirt as if to embrace himself. He isn't really cold, he just feels more comfortable with that simple action.
Breaths so quiet, his chest barely seems to move. He's alone, only his shadow resembling another human, when the light hits just right.
His eyes meet a streetlight just above him, so very similar to the other ones, except for its age, maybe. He immediately focuses on the sky again, although he could swear he saw and heard that streetlight flicker.

But it doesn't matter to him as much.

His mind unconsciously shifts away and unfocuses his attention from his surroundings, but he is used to it. He can't help but jump into a lake of thoughts, ready to become a stream of worries in a second.

He thinks about what he has to do, and the checklist becomes longer the more he revises his plans. He would normally feel himself break over stress, over the need to go and be productive.

At one point, he had become the type to force motivation out of himself to do what he was asked. Studying, favors, his part-time job. He had bright plans for his future and yet he felt, and still feels, a bit overwhelmed by it all. He eventually started to ask for support, but stress still kept clawing him.

"Maybe you should take a break, even if you have stuff to do." A friend once suggested him.
"I know you think it's a crazy idea, but I can guarantee you're not going to feel better by overworking yourself today as well."

He resisted back then. He so tried to convince himself that working through his projects would make him feel better, he tried telling himself that making sure every little detail was in place would give him confidence.

Though in the end, his friend's words kept coming back.
"Listen. I know what you're thinking, but understand that if the price to pay to complete a project is to lose a friend to insanity, then it's not worth it."

"It's just, I know these are important things to you, but maybe giving yourself some time is also... not that bad...? Maybe you'll even become less stressed, who knows."

In that moment, every inch of his being begged him to listen. Deep down, he knew he should listen.
And so he tried. He started giving himself a bit more time, a bit more patience.

"I'm... worried, is what I'm trying to say."

It's isn't easy for him. It obviously isn't. He can't just tell himself to change his way of thinking just like that, he can't just shake his fears off in a day. And yet...

"You can be kind to yourself."

His gaze is lost in the light of the sky again. He listens to the wind oh so subtle, and feels as it touches him gently. As his thoughts shift from memory to memory, and fantasy to fantasy. He wonders what awaits him tomorrow.
For once, it's quiet. No busy roads, no kids are yelling. For once, after so many tries, his mind is still.

It felt like cold water after a hot day. He felt some relief after so long.

Maybe it was true, although his worries were still there. Maybe he could give himself more patience, and time, despite his undeniable fears and doubts.

'Maybe I can be kind to myself.'

And so he smiles to himself, tenderly so, and his eyes turn as bright as the clouds above him, as if to welcome his own being, with open arms.

The streetlight flickers gently in return.