There’s a little star I call by your name.
Quite far away, but the glow was still within my reach. Throughout the years, I explored strange new worlds, but the little star remained unchanged. I saw wondrous things and awful nightmares, and I think I might have forgotten something. But one day during my travels, I came across the little star again. In the vast unknown, it was a warm welcome of a familiar glow. The universe changed, but there was still something special about that little star. But I knew I had to stay away.
My travels continued and took me to places I never knew existed and to places I wish I could just erase. But there was always something leading me back to that little corner of space, where a little star shone brightly. I didn’t notice at first but the glow was growing strong. The little star wasn’t little anymore.
Whenever I return, new stars were there to greet me, adding light to a familiar glow in the middle. It was beautiful… yet it was frightening. It scared me, because I knew what would happen.
The once barren corner would carry a great mass. The blackness would be replaced by a million bright lights, not blinding but comforting. Stars would appear in a fashion so unique but still familiar. Connecting dots would tell stories of fate and time. An entire new universe would appear, containing billions of uncharted galaxies… and at the center of it all would be that once little star.
It was never in my hands, the construction of it all. Unknowingly you were the one creating them. Placing the stars, arranging the planets, fashioning galaxies in a void corner of my heart. It was magical… but you were never aware of it all. That’s why it’s frightening.
In every little thing you do, bright lights would appear. New stars, finding their places as if they’ve always belonged there. But I knew. I knew, that in another universe, in your universe, all I create are meteors.
Broken pieces of rock, falling nowhere. They might glow, but only in a short while… and only because they’re burning down into nothingness. Lost in the vastness of space. Or forgotten in a barren land. Or crashed into a planet, leaving destruction and chaos. In your universe filled with wondrous galaxies, with stars brighter than anything I’ve seen, I am but a lost meteor, not belonging anywhere and with nowhere to go.
That’s why it’s frightening. And that is why I need to stay away.
You create galaxies in my heart, while I create meteors in yours.
I had a glimpse of what it would be like if we could build the same. If we could share our stars and map our constellations together. It would be a multitude of colors and a mixture of brightness and dim.
But I cannot venture to a universe too far away. So the only thing left to do is to stay away.
There’s a little star in a corner, glowing warm and tempting. It could be a spectacle to behold, but I cannot let it grow. For it will grow and grow, but I can’t hold it by myself. It will explode. That little star will cause a vast destruction and it will leave nothing but a black hole that cannot be replaced. So forgive me if I leave that little star behind.
Maybe the glow will fade. Or maybe it will stay the same.
But in a little corner, I’ll keep the little star safe. The little star I call by your name.