I don't know how to feel about nighttime.
On one hand, it's the best time of the day. Everything is silent and calm, the normal hustle and bustle of a day faded away like the sun on the horizon. Nobody expects anything out of you because you're supposed to be asleep. On the other, it's a time when our deepest, most hidden thoughts come out. They surprise us, pull us into a state of mind that we rarely let show. The nighttime allows minds to run wild, thoughts trailing to places you never want them to be.
Most nights, finding sleep is easy. I just lie down, close my eyes, relax my mind, and get pulled into slumber almost immediately.
But some nights, finding sleep is like finding gold.
I'll toss and turn in my bed for hours, my mind running with questions, guilt and "what if"'s. I think about what would've happened if I hadn't run away. Could I have protected my people? If I were there, would they still be too? I imagine their fear, their pain, their screams. How much that, with their last dying breath, they resented me for deserting them.
And on these nights, where sleep is a mere dream itself, I find myself feeling...empty. Like there's something missing, but I can't quite figure out what it is.
I sometimes take walks, or simply meditate, but nothing can truly rest the lingering weight upon my mind. Nothing can truly take away the pain that has been brewing inside me, the pain that only comes out during the darkest hours.
Nothing can take away the fact that I'm the last airbender. That I'll have to live with that burden for the rest of my life. Nothing can pry the guilt that has rested heavily on my shoulders, lingering in my mind like a dark, circling cloud.
And just as nothing can truly take away my struggle, nothing can take away the nighttime.
