When I was younger, I found a sun for myself.
I don’t remember exactly when or where. Perhaps it was at a local faire, or passing by on the street somewhere that I found my sun.
I’d like to think it was amber and gold, but it probably wasn’t. It could have been copper, brass, or gilded. It could have been amber, or just colored glass. But it was my sun, and my sun was amber and gold.
There was a drop of amber in the center, with six or eight teardrop-shaped ambers surrounding it, and the whole piece was set in gold. I’m not sure though. I don’t remember anymore, because I no longer have my sun.
I gave my sun to the first woman who was ever my lover – five years after we broke up. I thought she needed strength, and I wanted to give her my best and brightest. I knew she’d have some long, hard years ahead of her, and she did. She does. But these days she seems happier, pursuing a new career path and telling me about her current relationship with such cheer that I can see the smile on her face even though we’re speaking over the telephone.
But there are those days when I need strength as well, and my world is dark in the absence of my sun. I miss its weight against my chest. I miss the strength I drew from it.
I remember the time in high school when I had an internship, and they had me clean out their basement for a month. I remember how dark it was down there, how lonesome. And how I realized that if I wanted light down there, I had to bring it with me.
So I sung, for hours every day, to bring the light with me. I stopped feeling lonesome. I let go of my fear. The light in my heart chased them away, and I shone like a beacon in the dark.
But some time after that, I lost my light. I don’t remember when or where. Now, I feel lonesome. I am afraid. My heart diminished from all the pieces I gave away to others. Most did not treat them kindly; few returned them when they were done. A few years ago I gave one of the best and brightest pieces of it to a friend who needed strength.
I hope I still have enough to get by. I hope I still have enough left to share with the people I meet who matter to me.
Because when I was younger, I found a sun. I don’t remember when or where. It was a drop of amber surrounded by six or eight teardrops set in gold. I don’t remember anymore, because it’s been years since I’ve seen my sun.
But I still remember the way it feels.