I knotted my fingers underneath my head as I watched the stars shimmer in front of my eyes. I heard her sigh as she sat down next to me, patting away the wrinkles from her pants. "Do you always come out here? Even when it's so cold?"
"I like to see why stars matter even when people like me don't," I shrugged and placed the stem of a dandelion at the edge of my fingertips, watching the wind take away its flaws and scatter them across the world.
"You know, when people look up at the stars, they don't say that star," she pointed, "isn't prettier than that one over there because it shines brighter. They don't say that it doesn't deserve to be in the sky because it doesn't shine as bright. Just because it doesn't, this never means it will never become something amazing, something so brilliant that it will leave you wondering why you ever questioned your flaws when they are the ones that are making you feel beautiful. Just like you. Just because you feel as if you are not shining right now, this doesn't mean you'll never become a supernova."
And ever since those words left her lips, every star shined just a little brighter.
YOU ARE READING
therapy
Short Story"they told us that we needed therapy, as if medication and tainted words could fix broken toys."
