For years I have grown to know only the touch of the sun, the song of birds flocking the pine trees, and the hum of busy roads winding throughout the mountainside.

Nights weren’t filled with the beauty of stars or the sweet chirping of crickets. They were just merely the same as the morning before it. A sensory overload. You couldn’t crawl into bed and let the darkness take over. No-the sun will still be there tapping on your eyelids like a constant stalker. “Hey friend, it’s me again. The one and only, Sun!”

It came to the point where no one even knew when it was time to sleep. Most would succumb to their exhaustion wherever they were. Every building had a designated “sleeping zone” built on. Out grocery shopping? Here take a snooze. Learning trigonometry? How about some shut eye. It all became so normal.

But I’ve had enough.

We’ve read about an island south of us, closer to the equator, which has been able to maintain a typical 24 hour morning and night switch off. Most don’t dare to travel the treacherous seas and decide to deal with the monotony of our daylight instead. Nevertheless, here I am on a ship with about 10 other passengers, waiting to land on my most desired destination.

The thought of arriving at nighttime, just as the sun is setting sends a thrill through my core. I can just imagine the coolness of the air as the heat from the sun descends with it. I think of laying in a bed where not a spot of light can sift through a curtain.

The stillness of nature when the land fades to nothing but black. I don’t even think I’d mind the creatures that lurk in the shadows. I welcome them even, my new friends that share the love of darkness. An adjustment will have to be made, sure, but I can already taste the sweetness of the absence of light. And it tastes so…dark.