Forgotten Letters

Yesterday

The many stars we stayed up late to trace in the night still fill up the sky like they used to; the only difference is that I trace them alone.
I still search for the brightest star to the left on quiet nights.
I still go up the roof of the attic through the hidden window we went through so frequently when we were kids, to watch the beautiful shooting stars that don't come so frequent— makes me wonder if you still watch them too

I've never been much of an adult.
Growing up I always just did what others around me did, I didn't have much choices, they were luxuries I didn't want to have
But along the way, the third moon after we said the last good bye, I wished I'd made a lot of choices.
Suddenly you made me realize and want to do things I would never have dared dream of doing.
I remember that night I would've gone through the thinnest loop to not say that good bye.
But it wasn't our fault, it never was; I guess growing up you have to adjust to the changes that sometimes rock you off balance, that maybe being an adult just means adapting and making better of the present.

But perhaps if you still watch these stars too every night, I guess you could always be alongside me through the stars, wherever you are now; even though I'm alone.