A Love Letter To The Sun

I remember in Elementary School when I first learned about photosynthesis.

I wasn’t much interested in science,

But the idea that the Sun could give plants the energy that they needed to take care of themselves…

To feed themselves..

To protect themselves…

It was the coolest concept and I thought, “God must be a genius!”

Because …wow.

Summertime was always my favorite time of year. More Sun, More Sun, More Sun!

I loved nothing more than putting on my play clothes and running outside to be with you for as long as the adults would permit.

What else would you expect from a July Baby?

As I got older, the fascination didn’t fade.

But I became mentally tied up in so many concepts.

So many things that I allowed to take precedence in my life.

Schoolwork, grades, friends, romance, money, clothes, music.

The list is endless.

Before I knew it, I’d knocked on my neighbor’s door to play for the very last time.

Inside. On the phone, on the internet, watching tv, reading, creating art, listening to music.

Everything fun was inside now.

My dad would drag me outside every now and again, unwillingly, to “work” in the garage.

Which, for his daughter, meant sitting silently while he talked, running to get beers, and occasionally asking what a tool was called.

Half out of curiosity, half because I knew he liked it…

Soon, I began associating outside with all of the things I didn’t like.

Garage work. Bugs. Smelling like “outside”. Being a “tomboy”. Itching. Fetching beers. All of my dad’s friends.

The more time I spent inside the more I felt like I was getting to know myself.

Feeling safe to express the realness behind the protection of four walls.

I sang my heart out behind the illusion of a soundproof home. (It wasn’t)

I danced to every beat I could feel in my soul knowing that not a single movement could incur an eye of judgment, disdain or punishment.

I found solace in privacy.

In solitude.

All the while I dreamt of the Sun.

The warmth on my skin.

The soft embrace on my cheeks.

The perfect shade of red that appeared every single time I looked at the Sun and closed my eyes.

I had no idea how much I missed you.

More time passed and I fell deeper into my solitude.

You called for me but each time I heard, “Hey, Failure!”

Because adults should have homes, right?

I felt your loving touch as I awoke each morning and it was more intimate than anything I’d ever experienced, but I tore my mind away from our affair.

I had to find a way to get away from you.

They told me I had to.

Sun, did you know how many rules there are about being outside?

I fretted anxiously as I tried to do everything I needed to do to stop being outside.

I dreamt of the day that I’d have my own piece of outside…

I still do.

To be safe and welcome.

An outside of my own where I could be with you guiltlessly.

A “successful” version of our love.

I won’t lie. It was difficult at times. You can be a bit forceful.

But in no time, your resilience became my strength.

I stood up for myself. I took ownership of my time and space in a way that I had never done before.

Do you remember that time I stormed angrily out of the house, walking aimlessly and passing out in the IHOP lobby?

Ha. You taught me all I needed to know about impulse, being inattentive, and pushing beyond my limits.

But I made it there.

Time has passed yet again and I find myself dangling from the window just to say, “Good Morning”.

Next thing I know, I’ve been with you for an hour. Getting you all caught up and wondering how I keep forgetting.

How do I keep getting so bogged down with rational ideas of happiness when you are always right there.

Thankfully, you are always so forgiving towards me.

I don’t know how you managed to get so strong..

What with people like me forgetting to say hello. Others cursing you for the burn on their skin. Others pressuring you to add an hour or two to your routine so that they can do more.

I wish I could honestly say that now I’ll remember to say, “thank you”. I can promise that I’ll try.

It may not be difficult to be a human, but sometimes it sure feels that way.

We have this whole concept called “society” where practicality matters much less than rationality and much of the world is in our heads.

We agree on things and create rewards and punishments for eachother based on ability to complete the task.

It’s strange, really.

And most of us weren’t apart of the rule-making.

I mean, we agree to it. Abide by it. So it’s apart of us all. Manufactured by us all. Hard on us all.

And … you’re gonna think this is hilarious… but we have to remind ourselves to breathe.

We do our best, but y’know.

It always helps that you haven’t given up on us. That is why we need you.

I remember the day someone told me that you would eventually die.

I burst into tears.

Couldn’t explain it. And I tried to laugh through it, but it hurt so bad.

The idea that you would ever cease to exist…

I don’t like it.

I wish I’d never heard it.

I often choose to believe that it’s not even really true.

Silly, right?

But I love you. I really, really love you.

And I want to be better to you. For you. For me.

From the deepest parts of my heart and soul I am saying, “thank you”.

Thank you for every single day that you continue to be you.

I thank God for creating you. Being apart of you. And blessing this world with you.

I hope that this maybe makes up for a little lost time.

And perhaps it’ll help someone else to remember to stop and give a nod.

P.S. I saw the bluebird and it was the happiest I’d felt in a while.

XOXOXOXO Breana