what if you were in bed tonight and you were really lonely and sad and you were lying with your arm hanging out over the edge of the bed into the darkness and just as you were going to sleep, the darkness reached out and held your hand
Pants-shitting terror and glass-shattering screaming.
Then it screams back and you both scream until you are hoarse. And then it looks at you and blinks. Blinks. The darkness blinks and though it is nothing but black, somewhere in the chiaroscuro you can make out tears welling up where eyes would be.
You don’t know how to speak to the darkness. You don’t know what you’d say. So you simply reach, fingers quivering, into it, through it, around it, biting your lip so hard it bleeds. You hold that darkness and it holds you, convincing each other that you are alive and you matter, that sadness is temporary and nothing is forever.
And there you are, cuddling with darkness until the morning comes and chases away dreams, both good and bad. You look forward to the night and your new found friend but you forget. You forget that each darkness is different. You will never see him again.