Philosophy under the Stars

It was the middle of July and the warm summer air gave me a feeling inside my chest which can only be described as utter contentment. I had lain on my back, my eyes staring at the millions of dots that littered the sky. I stayed there, thinking thoughts of living and dying; of existence and purpose; of life and death: ‘Philosophy under the Stars’; that was my name for it.

My town borders the ocean. I often heard people saying how nice it must be to be able to see the Atlantic Ocean everyday if you wanted. Personally though, I couldn’t see what the big deal was. Maybe it’s just that I am born into it, so therefore I’m used to it. Or perhaps it’s that I just don’t like this town. Beyond the sea, there is nothing really special about this town. In fact, it is horribly dull.

The stars were my escape. Everyday, as I sat in the classroom listening to lectures I would think of nothing but going to my little spot on the hill overlooking the sea, and look out at the millions of stars in the sky. It was easy to like the stars; they were beautiful and bright and they didn’t judge. They had far more going for them that I did. Even if I ever found away out of this mess called my life, it would only lead me to another hell. In all honesty though, I could only have myself to blame for the messes that I’ve gotten myself into. I was failing two subjects and I had only managed to scrape D’s in just about everything else. It was really strange.

“Dennis, please explain these grades,” my mother had said tearfully. I walked out on her, as she sobbed. Was I really that much of a disappointment? I guess I was.

Besides the stars, which were a fuel to my philosophical fire, there were my fantasies that helped me to get through the times. The dark haired woman, beautiful and elegant, would take me somewhere far, far away. She had blue eyes which sparkled and they would follow me always. She would embrace me, and allow me to take in her body, which would be shared with nobody else. And we would sit atop that lonely hill, looking up at the stars and down at the ocean; just being together and thinking. What’s wrong with thinking?

It was something that I could only vaguely imagine, a person loving you and no other. It would be almost as though life had some kind of happiness in it. Maybe it was just that I’ve never experienced it before.

It was at that moment that I managed to recall my 9th grade teacher. Her name was Mrs. Morrison, and she taught English with an unfamiliar zeal that surpassed others. I suppose you could say she was sort of a parent-like figure, seeing as how my parents cared nothing for me—well I guess it’s a little harsh to say they didn’t care, but still, they never understood that I felt I was a little more important then money.

I wondered about one thing she said to me, because even back then I was a poor student. She said, “Dennis, you’re such a smart person and I can tell you love to read,” and it was true, I did. That was one thing in the whole world that I loved to do. If I wasn’t under the stars, I was reading. “But what I just don’t understand,” she so said, “is how come, with all that knowledge you have up in your head there, you never are willing to put it towards your studies? Is there some kind of reason?” I simply shook my head then. But I believe I understand now. I think school just doesn’t have anything going for me at the moment. It’s all messed up and boring. I swear if it hadn’t been for the stars, I’m not sure how I would ever have gotten through school. It gave me something to look forward too, at least. There was something very soothing about them.

But that night was different. I felt it though I didn’t know exactly what it was. I must have lain there for a good ten minutes, but it felt like I had been lying there the whole day. I didn’t think of anything at that time; I just listened to the sounds of nature and felt myself drifting away into a nice midsummer’s day nap.

It was during this time that I first heard the footsteps. They were coming from behind, making a soft knocking sound. I didn’t get up, but I wasn’t relaxed anymore. I admit I was a bit frightened, being approached in such a quiet place at night. Just me, sitting on the grass on a hill overlooking the sea, and a stranger approaches.

But then without warning, the sounds of the footsteps stopped. I waited for something to happen. Something did happen; a voice, high pitched and quiet broke the night’s silence. “Excuse me,” it said.

I raised myself up and turned around. There she was; my dream girl. The first thing that struck me was the black hair cascading over her shoulders onto her chest, then those bright blue eyes, which looked so gentle and shy. Her body was curvy and beautiful but slightly taller then I was. She wore a long white sundress, a wide-brimmed sunhat and two matching sandals; simple, but elegant.

I couldn’t help but stare. I imagine I looked pretty stupid. But she just kept smiling this small, nervous smile. “I’m sorry to bother you,” she said. “But I’m lost.” That was all she said. Now that I think back on it, it was a rather peculiar thing for her to say but still I was too caught up in looking at her that I hardly noticed.

I moved my lips and a small sound came out but it was gibberish basically. Then it hit me. Lost? Yeah, I was lost. I started to gesture with my hand as though to articulate but no words were there to articulate. She said nothing, but kept the same nervous smile.

Finally, I managed to get a hold of myself and take a breath. I said finally, stuttering the first few words, “W-where are you going?”

She took a small step forward. “Well, I’m not exactly sure.”

I stared at her. She looked genuinely confused. It was almost depressing. But then she said, “Can I stay with you?”

I was hardly able to comprehend what exactly was going on but all of the sudden I felt my head nodding and this girl moving towards me. It was as though I could feel her presence nearing towards me. Then she sat herself down next to me on the grass and laid her head down. Her eyes stared up towards the heavens. I hesitated for a moment then tore my eyes away from her and fell back down.

It was funny, watching her. She was the same as I was. She was lost, I was lost. But we both found our refuge in the stars. The strange silence which passed over us only further confirmed this thought. She was content; and so was I.

“Have you ever wondered,” She asked, looking up at the stars “why exactly we’re here?”

‘All the time’ I thought. I didn’t say that though. Instead I paused as though considering some kind of intellectual response. She didn’t say anything, but continued looking up at the stars. So I finally said, “Well I guess we can’t really know. . .I mean we’re just here so we may as well make the best of it.”

I stopped suddenly, regretting my words as clumsy and dull. However, she didn’t laugh nor make a scathing comment. Instead, she kept watching the stars as I had done. I had to wonder at that moment; what strange fortune; that this person should too discover my philosophy under the stars, and enjoy it.

“I think,” she said, her voice cool and crisp, with no trace of nervousness in it anymore, “There is no reason. Maybe we exist and that’s all. Is that strange?”

“Not at all,” I responded immediately. “You’re right.”

She gave a long sigh which only further depressed me. “What’s your name?” she asked.

“Dennis,” I responded.

“You do this often Dennis—I mean just lie here, thinking?”

“Yes; Almost every night.”

She smiled. “I envy you.”

The sound of her voice, made me turn. I saw her eyes; they were full of tears. In turn, mine became as well. It was a strange moment. I felt close to her, not even in a romantic way. I just thought that maybe this was the one person who had experienced a similar kind of heartache that I had. It was true; and it was confirmed.

That’s when she started to cry. I felt awkward, and I asked, “What is the matter?”

“I have to go,” she said, sniffing.

My voice shook as I nearly yelped, “Already?”

“Yes. It was really nice sharing this moment with me but I need to leave.”

She gave me a small smile through teary eyes, and pulled herself up, but before she could leave, I yelled, “Wait a minute!”

She raised her eyebrows at me and waited for a response. I sighed and said quietly, “What is your name?”

She smiled warmly and responded, “Maya Thompson” Then she paused as if to determine if that was the only thing. Then she said in a low voice, “So long.”

I watched her stride slowly away and it wasn’t till she was far out that I remembered to say goodbye, but by then it was already too late. So trying to forget about that mistake, I laid my head back against the grass and tried once more to continue my philosophy under the stars. However, the magic seemed to have left with her and the time when I was content to be by myself was simply over. So I simply got up, and began to walk home.

As I lay in bed that night, I tried to think of what she was going through but I couldn’t. I couldn’t think of anything else other then I wish she could’ve stayed with me, just a little longer.

In school the next morning, I sat in Math class, my head upon my arms. I had not slept well that night, and I recalled what I did and I regretted not doing what I could’ve done. It was rather remorseful but it made the time easier to pass so soon the bell rang. I braced myself for the morning announcements, and I did the typical chore of standing up in front of a flag and reciting the pledge. I anticipated another horrible day.

The vice principal spoke saying, “It is with great sorrow that I must report the loss of Maya Thompson.”

Already, my thoughts were prophetic. She was a student here, at this very school and yet I had never even known her.

Sadness continued to plaque me the entire school day and it only continued when I walked home. I saw search boats filled with grim-faced men in wet suits driving across the ocean. It all seemed so real now, because I had overheard someone say that she had lost herself in the ocean.

I guess she couldn’t take it anymore. Life is absurd, and to someone, a terrible horror. But at least I can say that I knew here. She was indeed a very good person.

Once more that night, I sat upon the grass. This session, I spent an awful lot of time thinking about death, mainly in relation to Maya’s death. I wondered and pleaded in my mind to the stars; was she finally at peace? I doubted it; People say death brings you to a better place, because their whole life they were desperately searching for a reason why they were living. How can you be prepared to die, if you were still searching for a reason to live? I watched the stars as though they somehow would hold the answer to my questions. They never responded though. They continued to blink down at me, almost as though they could not understand the question or else were too guilty to give me a proper response. Or maybe it was laughter; were they laughing?

That’s when I heard it; footsteps; Déjà vu? I suddenly became very stiff and quiet then, my ears focused on only the footsteps silently crunching on the ground. They suddenly stopped; silence. I heard a high-pitched but firm voice say, “Excuse me.”

I turned. There she was; my dream girl; Maya Thompson.

To me, she was more beautiful then the first time that I had laid eyes on her. Her eyes were different. The first meeting there was obvious confusion and sadness; but her demeanor was clearly happy. Not a loud kind of happy but a small, subtle kind. As though she was aware of some joke which only she could properly understand. She smiled towards me and I felt myself melting.

I tried to speak; but she went over to me and knelt down, putting a finger upon my lips.

“Do you remember what I said? How life has no meaning?”

I nodded my head, her finger still upon my lips. She took her finger away slowly, still smiling and still beautiful.

“Well, I wasn’t entirely correct,” she lowered head and closed her eyes for a second. “But,” she said, moving her face closer to mine. Her eyes were staring directly at me. It was an intense look, as though nothing could be more important then her next words.

But no words ere spoken. Instead, she pulled my face towards her with her hands, and kissed me.

Have you ever experienced something that you thought impossible, and yet there could be no denying that this was a true moment? That was what the kiss was like for me, and I confess that I had never felt happier to be alive in my entire life. The kiss seemed almost like a means of breaking our chains. We have freed ourselves from the bondages of our oppressive society. The very society which told me my dreams were mere fantasies that could never occur in real life; that the real word is inherently miserable and depressing. It seemed like this would be my last session of philosophy under the stars. I searched for a purpose, only to find that the only true purpose that could be found was in my unrestricted freedom. She took my hand, and pulled me up with her. We ran away from everything; away from school, home, and life.

To the rest of the world, she was dead; my suicide note proved too that I had died as well. With that simple illusion, we had freed ourselves from the tyranny of ourselves. Hand in hand, we fled towards our natural state; freedom.