midnight musings

My week of having the place to myself has come to an end. But it was fun while it lasted...catching movies at odd hours of the night, having sleepovers, stocking up on all sorts of snacks, playing my old cds (well, not that old) that haven't received much attention in recent years. I've always felt ambivalent about being alone. Enjoying my own space, but missing having people around. But this time it was different. I could be by myself without overthinking, overanalyzing every little thing. Without worry about the future, without regrets that sometimes bear too heavy from the distant past. Midnight hours flipping through an old book while curled up in bed, songs by The Corrs and Jewel playing softly in the background, it's a rare sense of stillness I feel. An old comfort telling me that everything is going to be ok. And all those grey thoughts looming in my head seem so small, so insignificant. Tracing my finger over the corner of my bookshelf, filled with quotes scribbled over the years, some have faded, others are barely legible. The oldest one, about tenacity by Louis Pasteur, tucked in the corner, an impulsive scribble while preparing for o-levels. Random words such as Sputnik that hold more meaning to me than one would guess just by looking at it. The constant need for answers and meaning sometimes overshadows the process of finding them. It's in these lines, this stream of words that, at that time, moved me, motivated me, made me laugh out loud or brought out the smallest smile, that I see the beauty that can be in randomness. Maybe it's ok if life gets a little messy sometimes, if reason and purpose evades us at some turns. Maybe it's supposed to. I know this feeling wouldn't last long, and tomorrow the old worries will creep back once again. But I'll remember what it was like, these hours of contentment to myself, and remember to be still every once in a while.