Under a crying sky

He sat on the edge of the roof, alone under a sky filled with stars, but they seemed distant, as if they were ignoring him. The cold wind touched his face, but it couldn't extinguish the fire burning inside him. He stared into the darkness and said softly to himself:

"Why do I feel like the whole world is leaving, and I'm just here, stuck?"

A voice inside him answered, calm yet heavy with pain: "Maybe because you left yourself behind. The days pass, and you're still searching for something you don't even know. But have you ever thought that you might never find it?"

His body trembled, but his eyes never left the sky. "I don't want to stay like this. But I'm afraid... afraid of the first step, afraid to look inside. Isn't running away easier?"

The voice sighed, as if sharing the same sorrow: "Running away always seems easier, but it's a long pain that never ends. You run from your hurt, but in reality, you carry it with you wherever you go."

He raised his head, gazing at the stars that shimmered as if they were silently crying. "But I'm tired. Tired of running in circles, of feeling that everything is meaningless. Why do I live?"

A long silence followed, as if even the voice inside him didn't know the answer. Finally, the voice whispered: "Maybe there is no answer. Maybe we live to try, to search for that small moment that makes us feel alive. But you won't find it as long as you hide in your shadow."

He closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the tears that hadn't fallen. "But I'm alone. No one hears me. No one feels me."

The voice replied, this time closer, warmer: "Maybe they don't hear, but the sky does. Those stars you're looking at now have been here for millions of years, still shining even though they may have died long ago. Understand this: light remains, even when the source disappears. What you carry in your heart may leave a mark, even if you don't realize it now."

He opened his eyes and looked at the sky again. It wasn't any less sorrowful, but he felt as though it shared his pain, as if it were telling him: "Stay. Tomorrow, you might be the light someone else is searching for."

And though his heart was still heavy, a small part of him decided to hold on to the moment, to the sky, and to the hope that was still fragile, but present.