The Light

 Even when all else seems dark and gloomy, they still strain to reach the light, regardless or how elusive it may seem.

I am cast in ice-cold shadow, but they find the sun with ease.

“Or is it the sun that finds you?” I look up toward it, beaming down from the sky onto my friend, rooted in place beside me. The sun is a spotlight and my buddy the star of the show.

 

I shake my head. “How is it that you and the sun always find each other?”

My buddy sighs. It’s so quiet, you could almost miss it, like a faint whistle on the wind. Except I know that’s just how they are. So quiet, you’ll surely miss anything they say if you’re not tuned in and paying attention.

“Maybe we’re just meant to be, the sun and I,” they say.

Their words are the verbal equivalent of a shrug, and I can’t help but laugh.

“It’s ok,” I tell them. “I don’t have answers either. I’m just as clueless as you.”

“I’m not sure I’d say I’m completely clueless.”

“I’m sorry. That came out kinda wrong. I didn’t mean…”

They sway toward me. “It’s alright.” Straightening again, they trail off, leaning back to bask in the sun’s rays.

I reach out, hoping to touch some of the light myself, but it eludes me. Almost as if the sun is actively trying to avoid me.

 

“Maybe I attract it.” My buddy’s voice reaches my ear, warm against the cool breeze blowing over us both.

“Maybe?” I spit, struck with disbelief at the question in their tone. “You definitely attract it.” I glance at the sunlight shining down on them out of the corner of my eye. “Not like me.” I stiffen at the fresh chill that courses down my spine from being cast in shadow, the truth like an icy splash of water to the face.

 

“Hey,” says my friend. This time, when they sway toward me, their petals brush lightly against the skin of my exposed arm. The touch is so light, I almost don’t notice. Until the chill I’ve grown used to disappears. In its place is a warmth so intense, I fear I might catch fire. I yank my arm away, holding it close to my chest.

 

I breathe deeply, relishing the cool air on my skin, soothing the burning sensation. My buddy bends down closer again, their petals brushing my shoulder. I brace, waiting for more intense heat.

“It’s okay,” my buddy whispers. “The warmth of the sun takes some getting used to, and you haven’t felt it nearly as much as you should have.”

 

I look at my buddy. Droplets fall down their dark centre. Tears.

“I want you to feel the light too,” they tell me. “I want to share its warmth. You, of all people deserve that.”

Now, it’s my turn to be teary. I fix my gaze on the ground as I swallow a lump in my throat. I suck in air, trying to find the right words to articulate what I’m feeling. Emotion courses through me, threatening to spill out and create a river around us. A river I’m sure my buddy’s warmth and the sun’s light would almost immediately evaporate.

 

“Words.” I finally manage to choke out. “I... I don’t quite know what to say. How to express everything that you, and this, means to me.”

 

My sunflower friend sways near me with the breeze, brushing against me every so often. This time, I stay still when the sun’s rays envelope me.

“That’s it,” they encourage me. “Told you. You just need to give it a chance.”

I lean in closer, bumping lightly against their petals before straightening.

"It doesn't matter if you're not exactly like me," they say. "You're you." 

I take a breath, feeling like I’ve finally found the words that escaped me earlier.

 

“Thank you,” I say. “For helping me find the light. For sharing your warmth with me. For everything. Thank you. Just…” Another breath. “… thank you.”