Today we sat and looked at the stars weaving in and out of puddles of clouds in the sky. And like every other time, I sat and thought to myself about the stars; what if we had been born as stars instead? To be the admiration of a billion pairs of eyes, and yet face the truth of a lonesome life. When we collide, we vanquish, leaving sparkles of bright light, and still the admiration of a billion pairs of eyes. Would it be worth? To not have the chance to fall in love, to not have the chance to say 'I love you' to the one you want to hold so much? Would it be worth?
Then I'd rather sit real still in your arms, be really quiet, and breathe the air you breathe. To look into those eyes and see the stars shine through them with the brilliance of a million diamonds. To let my nose linger in your hair and take in the familiar scent of you. To see you smile wide smiles and gather the impulse to want to keep all of them in a bottle. To weave my fingers in yours, and feel the heat warm up my chilly fingers with all the love in the world. And to have you nudge my ear playfully with your nose and whisper those words I want to hear so much.
We are much better off not being stars, I guess.
Because I can't make myself not love you.
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