Letter to the Late-Nighters
Updated: Jan 27
To everyone who is still awake at 5:30am—
I know your mind is loud right now, and it’s rotating through thoughts faster than you can think them. You can’t grasp onto a single one of the fleeting ideas flashing through the space behind your eyes. You’re dizzy and tired, but you’re fully awake at the same time, more awake than you felt during the day.
Maybe you’re like me, and you can’t stop shaking, your limbs tense and sore from clenching every muscle as you brace yourself against the deluge of images and sounds in your mind. Maybe you’ve given up on rest and turned the lights back on. Maybe you’re beyond frustrated and so exhausted you can’t do anything but remain in bed and silently scream at your mind to shut up and let you sleep.
Your heart is hammering in your ribcage, trying to escape through your throat. Your chest feels heavy, like something is sitting on top of you, weighing you down. You feel like this will never end, like your brain won’t ever slow down, like your body will never truly rest.
But I promise it will.
It may not be tonight, but you will know peace and sleep and rest. Your limbs will loosen; the tempo of your heart will become slow and even again; your mind will return to its usual volume, a low hum letting you know you’re still here and real.
The stars quietly watch the Earth as it rotates on its axis. They are thousands of miles away and yet their light still reaches us, still and beautiful though they, too, are in motion.
You will know the stillness and peace of the stars.
Until then, they will keep you company, and so will I—and so will thousands of other restless souls searching for comfort tonight.
Even if it isn’t tonight, I hope you reach the fulfilling rest you deserve, and I hope it comes easier in the nights that follow.