If you close your eyes in a empty room, where all you can hear is honks from outside cars, house creaks, and distant conversations through deafening silence, the world feels so big, but you begin to feel so small. So small that no one in this huge world could hear even your loudest screams. As you close your eyes in the deafening silence, feeling so small, all the thoughts, past and present, race into your brain.
“Get a life.”
“Go do something better.”
“Things won’t ever get better.”
Every thought and every memory, every reality of the ****** up **** that’s happening drowns your brain, filling the empty space where the deafening silence lays. I hiked up a mountain last night. Though in the past I was deemed as “incapable and unbalanced.” As the mountain got steeper, my heavy heart kept my feet grounded. I began to regret even making the choice to climb it. As we reached the top, finally looking up and turning around, all the lights shined brightly, piercing my already aching heart. You could see the Pacific Ocean, the school, the brightly lit bridge, over 100,000 house lights. You can see the Golden Gate Bridge and part of the East Bay and tiny lights in tiny towns where stop signs are placed. You could see the red and white lights of traffic. Then if you look up, away from all the lights, you see a gigantic sky with dimly lit city stars. I’ve only ever cried twice of happiness. Once on my high school graduation and once while staring at a much needed to see sunset. Looking at all the city lights, being at the top of once if the highest mountains in San Francisco, seeing how big the world is, I felt so much smaller… but the world felt so much more welcoming. I thought about how long it took to get up there and how hard it was to lift my legs. At some points my mouth spoke negativity, at other points I let out breathless laughs. I felt too small to make it to the top, but once I got up there, and saw the view, saw all the steps we took, I knew in my heart it was worth it. If you close your eyes in a empty room, where all you can hear is honks from outside cars, house creaks, and distant conversations through deafening silence, the world feels so big. As you close your eyes in the deafening silence, feeling so small, all the thoughts, past and present, race into your brain. But if you think about all the mountains you have left to climb, whether that’s a mountain made of a boy who cheated on you or a mountain of school work or a mountain of self-acceptance, instead of thinking about the person who told you to “get a life,” think about those city lights. The world is so big. We are so small. Mountains are so high, but once you reach the top, you’ll know it was worth it all.