The night was over. The drive home wouldn't be about where he had been, but where the light was leading him now.
lived in a city that never slept, but he was always the one awake in the quietest hours—the "blue hour" just before dawn. He carried a heavy wooden crate filled with old polaroids and handwritten letters, the remnants of a life he shared with someone who was now just a ghost in his memories. Kygo - Sunrise ft. Jason Walker (Audio)
One Tuesday, driven by a restless energy, Elias drove toward the coast. He parked on a jagged cliffside just as the sky began to bleed from indigo to a soft, bruised purple. He realized he had been holding onto the darkness for too long, afraid that if he let go of the pain, he’d lose the memory of her entirely. The night was over
As voice swells in the chorus, Elias stepped out of the car. The wind was cold, but the first sliver of gold began to peek over the Atlantic. “I can see the sunrise in your eyes.” He carried a heavy wooden crate filled with
The lyrics “We were only kids just living life / Like we were never gonna die” echoed in his mind every time he looked at a photo of them at seventeen, blurred and laughing under a summer sky. They had promised to see the world together, but life had pulled them in opposite directions, leaving Elias stuck in the "night" of his own regret.
He didn’t see her face in the light; he saw the possibility of himself without the weight. He took a single deep breath, the air tasting of salt and new beginnings. He didn't throw the crate away—that wasn't the point. Instead, he placed it in the backseat, turned his face toward the warmth, and started the engine.