i was always interested in the stars, the sky. but not like you. i’d point out all the wrong things, you gently corrected each and every one them. i pretended as if i were asleep that night. and i asked you (fakely waking up from my sleep) to tell me what each individual set of stars were. what planet was this? what constellation was that? is that orion’s belt? i pointed out cassiopeia. your wounds were still fresh, and i never thought once that every single star would burn in our universe to replace themselves with bright brand new ones.