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He Said We Were Stars

The title is from Carry On by Rainbow Rowell. My favorite book ever. Read it, it's amazing. 

Stars are beautiful, residing up there in the night sky. Stars are untouchable. So far away. From the earth, they look like little glimmers, little specks. But each one is powerful and ethereal. And they remind me of hope.

Whenever I feel lost, whenever I feel hopeless, I just look up. I look up, and they remind me who I am. I could stargaze forever. But unfortunately the morning always comes, and the stars recede, they go into hiding. Awaiting their time to light up the darkness once more.

Tonight is one of those nights I feel lost.

I sit on the edge of the roof of my apartment building, looking up at the sky. The little lights up there are so much greater than the little lights down below. They make the city seem inconsequential. They show me how insignificant my problems really are.

Love and the lack of it is nothing compared to the vastness of the stars. The way I feel for Marvin is nothing compared to each and every one of those twinkling lights. I am nothing.

Marvin's reminded me, so many times, that he's only using me for sex. That he could never leave his wife and child for a man, for me. I know all of that, and yet, I fell. I fell and I fell and I hate myself for it. Because I know that he could never, would never, love me.

I pull out a cigarette and light it, bringing it up to my lips with a shaky hand. Smoking always relaxes me. I know it isn't good, but I can't bring myself to care.

The bustle of the city below pulls my attention downward. All that life down there, life that I don't have. The only thing keeping me from the stars is the man I love, the man who doesn't love me back.

I inhale the smoke, and blow it back out, clouding the front of my vision. It's cold out here, why didn't I grab a blanket? Or a jacket?

I wish I could be a star. One of those brilliant heavenly bodies high above. I wouldn't have to worry about love and feelings. Wouldn't give a shit about men with terrible fashion sense who still manage to look good. Men with a fantastic sense of humour who always make me laugh. Men with wives and children who continuously claim they aren't gay. They can't be gay.

But I'm just me. I'm just nothing, as he always tells me. Not a star, not important, just...nothing.

Once again my eyes are pulled downward. If I were to let myself fall down, would I then be light enough to go up? I would certainly be free. Free of my troubles, free of my feelings, free of him.

But could I give up everything to be among the things I love? Would I like being a star as much as I like looking at them? Or would that be just as disappointing as everything else seems to be?

I realize I've practically abandoned my cigarette, which would explain why I'm the complete opposite of calm right now. I stub it out and climb off the ledge. Coming out here did not have the intended effect. I came out here to be reminded of my place in this world. To figure out why I should keep existing. I didn't find it, but I can't end everything, not yet.

I know Marvin doesn't love me, could never love me. But I enjoy the time we spend together, and I wouldn't give it up for anything. At least he's mine for a little while.

I turn and look up once more. The stars will always be here for me, especially when nobody else is.

I hear the door to the roof open behind me, and I turn around quickly. Marvin sticks his head through and looks relieved when he sees me.

"Whizzer? What are you doing? It's so cold out here." He says, trying to get me to come back in.

I give in too easily. "Nothing, I'll be right in."

Someday I'll become one of them, but not today.

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689 Words 

This one's just a short, angsty little oneshot. My original idea for it was like a cute little Whizzvin stargazing date, but then it turned into this and idk if that's better or worse. 

Thanks for reading,

~Queer_And_Heere