In the daylight, I find, it is easy to be sure. To know things, and be fearless. For while the destination may yet be hidden, the path at least is clear. Then it isn’t. You arrive at your crossroads. Your dark twilight that must quickly be crossed. From the bright things of day to the quiet in the night. Surrounding you, billowing out of the silence comes the inescapable dark. When everyone else is away, and you are left to you. When sleep does not quickly take you, the surety withers. You question. You worry and fear. You retreat in the darkness, stumbling over the past, careening off a cliff of decisions gone wrong that you haven’t made yet. And it’s tragic and you’re trapped, and you’ll always be alone and you’ll never escape and it will never end. And then it ends. One way or another it always ends. This time sleep takes you. This time the morning comes. And there is peace. And there is the secret. In its own time, the light always returns.