Along the Lines of Beautiful Nights

The near-black sky tonight is so beautiful, all speckled with dimly winking stars. Fading darker as it goes towards the "center" of the sky, it really does give you the illusion, or more so the reality, of a dome.
Standing outside, the cool night air breathes on my skin, and I can't help but feel myself open up to the night, trying to release all of the energy, emotion, and noise that's inside of me, screaming to be heard.
It's the nights like these that are the hardest for me. The beautiful, calm, and peaceful nights. A summer rain shower are also difficult, but for now, all I have is tonight.
There's something about the dark sky, the whispering crickets, and the unseen wind that pulls at the core of me. Everything contained inside of me starts to pull and claw its way out, and no matter how long or how hard it will dig, it will never reach the surface.
The night protects me.
It offers me a cover, a safety, that just surrounds me with blankets of comfort.
The night listens.
It's still, and hears everything I dare not say. The crickets distract any listening ear as my heart pours out its secrets and begs for relief.
The night heals.
I am taken away into a corner of the world that is mine, and only mine. I am alone to breathe, and the chilled air fills every cell in my body and replenishes what it can, offering what it can, and taking what it can.
The night rolls over and through me, opening me up and removing the walls I work so hard to build.
These nights... they heal and they haunt. I long for those I love, to hold and be held by warm, protecting arms. The night offers the empty whisper of a touch. I miss those I've lost, and the night gently reminds me that they no longer need me, though their memory still lingers in me, irreplaceable, quite unlike what I am to them. The night lets me feel everything while I wish the opposite.

It's on nights like these...

...that it feels as if everything I want and need...

...are just right there...

...right behind that thin curtain of black...

...and just as I reach out to touch it...

...I find that it was never really there in the first place.

Along the Lines of Roses

Roses are beautiful things, so rich in color. They represent love when red, friendship when yellow, and purity when white. Chosen for their beauty and innocence, they are the background of many pictures and adorn weddings, funerals, and other occasions.
They sit in vases on our countertops, soaking in vitamin-enriched water. Slowly, the life is drained out of them, and for our pleasure. We hold on to them, knowing they will die soon enough, and when their time comes and they are exhausted and wilting, we will throw them out, and find a new replacement, but at least we enjoyed their vitality while it lasted.
They hang from a noose made of ribbon, the life also draining out of them imminently. While they will die just as the others, their beauty will be preserved in part. Their jaded, dead shells will sit in empty vases, hang on walls, or be tucked safely on a shelf as a tribute to the memories that brought them there. But the life is sucked out of them, yet we hang on tightly to them, to the memories, because we're too scared to let them go.
There are so many things that are exactly like these roses. We choose to either enjoy their beauty while they last, or we keep the dead shells because it is too hard to let them go.

Along the Lines of Depression in the United States

Big Sister at work came up with the following insight on rainbow-colored sprinkles:

"Some people are just depressed and they need to eat colorful wax to make themselves feel happy."

Along the Lines of My Co-Workers

Working at a place whose full line of employees consists of mostly high school and recently graduated students, it's inevitable that a number of them will have to quit come late August and September. It's rough to acknowledge these imminent changes, but we have no choice but to accept them.
One of these people happens to be one of my closest friends, mentor, and sister-like figure. She's moving out for college in just a matter of weeks, and it's hard to imagine life without her, without her being in a twenty minute range if I need her for anything. She's guided me through the past four years, and has been there to protect me, to listen to me, and to give me advice and show me how to truly live my life. I can't imagine DECA without her; I'll miss her confident calm, and her faith in me to do well and to go farther than I ever could have guessed. Her knowledge and skill helped get me to Nationals, and I can't imagine going without her. Next year, it will be me who is the mentor, the one who has been there before, and quite frankly, that's terrifying.
Next is the "only good-looking straight guy" and "the five-year old who never grew up". He is moving to a city whose population is smaller than the student body of my high school. None of us are really quite sure why he's going there, since it's kind of known as the town that you move away from, not to. As he explains it, he's moving there to get away from everything, and as crazy as we all think he is, I think it will be good for him. He's going to grow up a little (we hope) and maybe get his life in order for what he wants for his future.
Then there's the quiet Mormon girl, who is also moving away to college. She hasn't worked here long, but we've all sort of grown attached. She's a sweetheart, she really is. I hope things go well for her; she deserves it.
And the oldest of us all, and recently returned from Scotland for study abroad. She's been here for three years, and it will be strange for all of us to see her go. Like everyone else but so much more so, she's family, she's the big sister. There's a slight chance that she'll come back next summer, but you can only work quick serve for so long, and she's talented enough to get the work she wants in photography.
Our dear father may or may not be leaving. He's even older than big sister, but still young to all of us. Having been here since our opening day, he has a permanent place in our family, but again, you can only work quick serve for so long.
With school starting, none of us are really sure of who else might have to leave, myself included. I don't want to see more of us go, but it's a possibility.
All of these people and the rest of our family make work my home. It's safety, a place to hide, and somewhere to be yourself and be accepted as such. With the upcoming changes, I don't know how I would feel about adding another brother or sister, changing the parenthood, and just... watching them leave. It will be hard.