The Roof

The house I live in is a three story (plus attic) frat house.
Off one of the attic windows there is a space that is probably 4 feet by 8 feet where you can lean against the roof and look down fourth street. (And imagine the view of the skyline hiding just behind one of the classroom buildings.)
And the sky is bigger up there.
In this big city, with big buildings and tall trees and bright lights and commotion, I miss the big sky of Nebraska.
We are not supposed to be out there, though.
Insurance mumbo jumbo.
But tonight I need that spot on the roof.
The air is cool and sobering and reviving. It rained earlier this evening and the smell still lingers in the chill.
I need that recluse.
Sometimes I feel like I skim the surface of what I'm feeling because I'm afraid of what's underneath. Maybe there are beautiful things there, but I can never be sure.
I just need some place where I can feel exposed and contained; vulnerable and secure; at peace.
I need a place to pray. I need a place to talk. I need someone to listen, someone who knows.