Plastic Stars and Galaxies

In the dim light it’s hard to see the expression that makes up his face. He lay sprawled out on my bed, arms folded behind his head, and staring up at my ceiling. I glance at the plastic glowing stars above me and wonder just what he’s so fixated on. I wonder if the gears spinning in his head turned so fast that he wound up somewhere else in the universe. In orbit with the moon or maybe even on a fallen star. Wherever he is- he isn’t here with me. I wonder if he’s not somewhere else at all but frozen in time- stuck on this very thought for all of eternity. I wonder a lot of things. But wondering never does me much good.

Sighing, I fall down beside him on the bed, our shoulders touching and fingertips just centimetres apart. “Too bad we can’t see the real stars,” I whisper and tilt my head to see him. His lips turn into a slight smile but he doesn’t move. Oh, his beautiful lips. I wonder if God made those just to fit mine. I brush my fingers over the side of his face and following my hand he turns to meet his eyes to mine.

“But the real stars are found in your eyes.” He says, brushing my hair away from my face. I smile. I wonder how he knows the right things to say. And I wonder what he was thinking when he wasn’t saying anything at all. He furrows his eyebrows, almost reading my mind and sense my worries. He’s different. He doesn’t wonder. He knows.

And so he pulls me close, and wraps me up in his arms and whispers in my ear, “Can I keep you?”And for once, I don’t wonder, I know too. He was afraid I would leave, that he would be alone. That we would get lost between the stars and end up in two different galaxies.

I wonder a lot of things. But wondering never does me much good. Because sometimes you just need to know, when the person who always knows starts to wonder.

“Yes.” I say in hushed tone, as our eyelids flutter closed and we let our minds wonder about the galaxy we will explore together.

s.b.

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