This morning I woke up with the light

Allie

A picture I took from my car this morning when I saw the sun rise.

For the first time in months, I woke up this morning with the sun. 

I know that sounds weird considering the sun rising is one of the only actual consistent and reliable things our world has; however, for the past couple of months, I would wake up—look out my little window—and see darkness. 

I would drive down Cascade Road on my way to school and see darkness. I would dreadfully drag myself out of my warm car and stomp my feet into the building through the darkness. 

For months, I’ve only seen darkness. 

And after a while of not seeing the light cascading through my sheer white curtains, and not feeling even the slightest burn on my blue eyes as I drove through the light, adjusting my head in order to see through its blinding rays, and not even knowing if it exist until halfway through my day because my first two classes don’t even have windows, after awhile one begins to lose hope. 

However, not today—not this morning. 

This morning, I pulled out of my driveway and was bombarded with the slightest hint of a peachy orange peaking up above the trees. And as I kept driving down Cascade Road, the peachy orange hue only grew stronger until the dark blue that once permanently remained had been phased out entirely. 

And as I sat in my warm car—naturally, putting the makeup on that I didn’t have time for in my typical morning routine—I didn’t even have to turn on my car light to see if there was mascara on my eyelids. 

I could just see. I could see my reflection. I could see the mascara wand. I could see the light. 

And as I walked into school with a slight grin on my face—perhaps for the first time in months—I could feel the light on my skin, I could feel it bouncing off my blonde hair, I could feel it slightly burning my blue eyes, I could feel it all around me. 

And even though it is still accompanied by a harsh cold that forces me to wear my pink puffer jacket every day, the fact that it was there at all gave me hope that soon, much like the darkness, the cold would start to phase out. 

And as the darkness exits, and the cold starts to drift away, I become happier; I become the light.