I have been dreary ever since the clouds’ returned from their hiding place; now, the seconds of sun that shine down on me are always brief and fleeting, yet I am not one to be picky during this gloomy time.

The bright seconds are fleeting yet meaningful; quality over quantity is vital. A few moments in the mellow sunbeams and I manage to capture the pure joy radiating into me. 

After coming back from weeks of sun, a lightness had settled in me. The walls warding off the inevitable darkness slowly crumbled and collapsed; there was no stress, and I dressed myself in bright colors to further sink into the gleam of happiness.

I wasn’t oblivious to the return of the dull, drab fog creeping to make its return, yet I found myself unable to mentally prepare. Caught unaware, I was significantly more dazed when it came back with a vengeance. 

Now, stuck in the colorless present, I look for any hint of light willing to shine into this dark place. Small moments of reprieve are all there is, yet I am eternally grateful.

I know I am not as euphoric as I could—and should—be. I know what it feels like to be caught in the sun, where I am in a pit of joy, seemingly endless, like it would go on forever. If I know how that feels, how can I go back to having only mere seconds of it?

However, I make do. The sunbeams break through the haze, and there is nothing else I care about but that moment. That moment of laughing with friends over something that surely shouldn’t be as funny as we think it is. That moment when I come home from a long day and see my dog bounding towards me, welcoming me home. That moment when my favorite song starts playing, and I’m able to scream along with the lyrics, not caring how I sound. That moment where I hear any piece of good news that helps the clouds recede just an inch, allowing the beams of light to break through. All of these moments, although they may seem small, perhaps even insignificant, are priceless to me. 

Those minuscule moments make my days worth the darkness, clouds, and haze. The seconds of light shining through the fog make me remember what it was to be at peace, floating through the daylight, truly as happy as I could ever be—and for a bit, I’m there again, because of the brief flashes.

The dreariness is a closer friend to me than the light as of now; however, I find I am able to struggle through it, as long as those insignificant moments and subsequent priceless bits of life continue to materialize.