you told me that it will be okay. you told me that I am okay. the cold night surrounding us, our bare feet touching, stars rising, and the ground far below ... and somehow, this was all I needed. somehow just someone else saying it, speaking out thoughts after listening to my own for a while ... you said you weren't good at consoling. I still don't believe you. but I believed you in another sense. eventually, it's something that is going to happen inside. no hands touching, no sun shining, no night surrounding, none of all of this has the power to make it any better. it's just what I make out of it. it's just what is happening inside of me ... and how I decide to feel about all of this. eventually, the golden light will enlighten my heart for a while, clouds will move and cover it, but I'll always know that it is there. I'll always know that it will make me smile. it'll will work. somehow.