I have had an ungodly obsession with sunsets and the sky for as long as I can remember. My camera roll is flooded with all different pictures of the sky— dark blue, oranges, purples, and the heavenly bright pink that feels like the universe’s reminder to us that there is so much beauty in this world. The other day, my roommate had to practically drag me back to our dorm from the dining hall because the sky was the prettiest ombre I had ever seen, and I must’ve stopped about fifteen times to capture it from every possible angle.
But there is something so much more beautiful about sunsets than their breathtaking appearances, and the more I think about it, the more I realize that my infatuation with the sky isn’t only about the mystical colors; it’s about what a sunset represents. No matter what happened that day, the sun still sets.
It doesn’t matter how exactly your day went. It doesn’t matter if you spent the day laughing with your friends, crying in your car, half sobbing/half screaming along to Noah Kahan or Current Joys (been there, done that), stressing over an exam, missing somebody you love, or simply just trying to make it the long hours until bedtime.
In those peaceful, after-dinner hours, the sky will still paint itself in vibrant, ever-changing patterns, evening after evening, each one different than the previous night’s. Like a persistent companion, always there to reassure us that even after all that we endured throughout the day, there will always be that sliver of light if you’re willing to look for it. How beautiful is that?
On some of my worst days, this principle has been my saving grace. Literally. Every heartbreak, every rough day at school, every strikeout, every friendship breakup, every period of setback in my life, without fail, at roughly seven p.m., the sky would light up with many different shades of hope; each sunset was a shoulder to lay my weary head upon after a long day of taking life’s hard knocks.
It became my little reminder that no matter how difficult that day, week, or month had been, it was never the end of the story. There would always be another day, another chance, and another pink sky waiting for me to gaze upon it.
September happens to be Suicide Awareness Month, and I think there is something very fitting about that. We all have days that feel heavier than others, periods in our life where the storm continues to rage on, and sometimes hope doesn’t look like a grand revelation. Sometimes, it’s just a pretty sky, a reminder to breathe and acknowledge that all of this beauty is out here for us, ours to take in.
Tomorrow is another day, and at the end of that day, another sunset will shine its way through. Maybe that’s the magic of sunsets: they don’t ask us to forget the bad days. They simply remind us that endings can be beautiful even when everything before them really wasn’t.
If you find yourself overwhelmed on a rough day, or simply in a hard place, I urge you to look up at the sky at the end of the day and take it all in. The colors, the peace, the calm at the end of the chaos. Do it just for a week, and see how you feel. Let it be the thing that you look forward to and the thing that you can say, “No matter what happens today, the sun is still going to set tonight.”
P.S. If you needed a reminder today: you are valued, you are loved, and the world is a better place because you’re in it. I hope you stick around to see tomorrow’s sunset. <3