I wanted to title this something else. Make it some profound life lesson. But I don't think I really have the answer to this riddle. I recently went through something that was designed to make me question everything I was made of. And the one lesson I took away from it was that every day ends. No matter what happens, every day ends. And that's a philosophy I took with me into other things. The darkness, the clouds, the quiet. Either way, it has to end, as every day does. But I ran into something I hadn't considered. What if the end of the day is the very thing you're afraid of? What if the darkness brings the thought of her and what you no longer have together, and reminds you that your nights will be cold and lonely and that you'll never stop missing her, or at least the idea of her. You remember the things lost when the noise stops and you're alone with your thoughts. There's no escaping that. So what do you do? I think, maybe... You just flip the philosophy and wait for the night to end. Because that, too, must end. And the day comes, and the sun shines again, and for a moment, the noise drowns out the deafening sounds of silence...
