Bittersweet

• In love with the stars

I came from the sky, made as a tumbled bright light with thorns too soft to protect a soul. That may be why I wanna go up from time to time.

As soon as I could move, I found myself demanding to search for more. My fingers searching for ideas the same way they did when I was in front of a piano, slowly but steadily.

I read about constellations right after seeing a fireball cross the air in a dark night in which my father was trying to teach me about the brightest star and where it would always be like I could count on it as the only questionless thing in this life.

He forgot to tell me about the clouds and so, the first night I looked up and couldn't see it, I thought I was alone for the first time.

I could count my age by the fingers on my hands the first time I laid down in the back of my house, cold and small, my arms stretched in heaven's direction, watching warm lights touch the sphere and disappearing. I watched them coming and going, like life and death, the seasons and the people I once had. My hands soon felt empty, because I kept dropping all the things I wanted.

As a life cycle, tears would come to make me question if love was indubitable. Or if it was always there, even during cloudy nights. 

Then I found you,

Inside your car, smiling, with lights stuck inside your eyes. That's when I realized I was in love with the stars and for once, they loved me back.