Look at the stars that rose above us both. Shed a tear for your troubles. I’ll shed one for my troubles, one for the distance between us, and many tears I’ll shed for that distance is not all that separates us.
Not someday; never. The decision of a superior being, terrible luck, or just something no possible universe can tolerate.
I am aware of everything that separates us, but I can’t stop looking at the stars that rose above us both.
I remember you most when I laugh, and I know I am not happy.
And I remember you most when I cry, and I know nothing could make me sadder.
There is always an end, and it will only be when I can’t see those stars anymore.
Not like an unwatered plant that died of thirst. But like perfume that has completely spread into the air, becoming an infinitesimal part of it, but a part nonetheless.