Dark gray skies lull over me. They stretch endlessly, like a heavy blanket wrapping around the world. Initially, their melancholic presence agonized me, and I wished for the clear blue skies to return. I yearned to be caressed by the warm sunlight and to find light in the dark, gloomy days. However, as the perpetual gray clouds hovered over me, covering the prospect of any warm sunshine reaching me, I too became accustomed to their presence. My eyes adapted to the grayness outside. Each day, I looked outside and let the dark weather embrace me, with its familiarity that matched my thoughts. I thought of my past and the pain of self-loathing, which I constantly carried on my shoulders. I thought of the people who made me miserable—the friends who made hollow promises that were never fulfilled, the people who I loved so much but still betrayed my trust. Every moment of nostalgia was filled with pain and sadness. The taste of sadness drenching my mouth had become so familiar, yet every time I swallowed a piece of regret, it was as if I were swallowing a sharp iron nail that ripped the lining of my throat and left it with fresh blood oozing out, and I had no choice other than to gulp the blood that made my stomach churn.Â
My sadness had become a familiar friend—a shadow that continued to cling to me. My incessant efforts to get rid of this sadness were akin to my efforts to get rid of the skies above me. I tried to shove them away, but they refused to leave. I cried myself to sleep, letting the pain devour me in its entirety. It hurt so much until one day the ache became bearable. I accepted my haunting past and refused to fight it. I became a bystander in my own life, refusing to intervene in matters that I had obsessively tried to control. However, contrary to my anticipation, this passiveness became peaceful. In the melancholy, there was a hidden tranquility.Â
I now wear my pain like a piece of clothing. It has become an essential part of my life. With each passing day, I find solace in the stillness that comes with accepting the melancholy. It’s as if the ponderous weight that I carried for days has finally been lifted off my shoulders. There is so much comfort in letting go of the thread of constant vigilance in my dilapidated hand. There is so much peace in accepting something that previously governed every aspect of my life. I no longer yearn for the bright days or the warmth of the sun. Instead, I find comfort in the cool embrace of the gray skies above. They remind me that life is not always sunshine and bright days. Perhaps it is okay to embrace the darkness, to let it wash over you, and to let it become a part of who you are without having it consume you in its entirety. Perhaps it is okay to stop fighting everything in your life and instead become a passive observer who relishes the joy of each day and its every sight. Passivity, not for the matters that you can control, but for the ones that you cannot. To live without having something incessantly pull you back. To be around people without feeling afraid. To stand in front of people without being ashamed of yourself. And most importantly, to finally believe in your potential to traverse the difficult paths of life.Â
So, I stand beneath the dark gray skies, letting them lull me into a state of calm. In their embrace, I find peace, acceptance, and a quiet resilience that I never knew existed within me. I breathe deeply. Grey skies lull over me, both literally and metaphorically.Â