Stars

     "Have you ever looked up at the stars? I mean really looked up at them. Looked up and felt Insignificant. Small, in size, in a vast world full of possibilities. Like nothing you do means that much in the grand scheme of things, but also that without your tiny blip on the map the world might fall apart. I don't know man." I was rambling now, with Jupiter Crash by The Cure balring from the speaker as we sat in the empty field and watched the stars. We had come out here, like we did every Friday night, to watch the stars. We would lay out on our blanket, with our carefully curated playlist, and just stare up at the stars and contemplate life. Ash replied, "That's deep Jess. Damn. I guess I never think that way. I just enjoy looking at them." He grabbed my hand, and pulled it closer to him, as a cool breeze came through the soft grass. I wasn't sure what he was implying or anything, but I knew he clearly wasn't thinking as deep as I had been. I'm not sure he had ever been, but you can't always tell. No one thought as deeply as I did. But I could tell that lately, Ash was thinking more than usual. We'd known each other our whole lives, but the time felt different lately. The moments we spent together felt like exploding stars, hot, messy, and beautiful. I wasn't anxious or anything about these new developments, I think it's something we'd both wanted for a while now, but It was definitely new. I looked over to him, the stars reflecting in his eyes, a thoughtful look on his face. We didn't say anything for a while, just existing. Soon enough though, the big cold droplets could be felt. Slowly but surely it started pouring down rain. I should have known it was going to rain. I smelled it on the air hours ago. We quickly grabbed out stuff and threw the blanket over us, running towards the car hoping to stay dry. To no avail, we got drenched. The blanket and our clothes, soaked through. When we sat down in the car, I looked at him and we both started laughing. We just sat there and laughed for a while before he put the car in drive and we were off towards home. We arrived back home by 3am, each exhausted and ready for sleep. My cozy bed was definitely calling me.

     When I woke up, a few weeks later, Ash was there again, just as he had been that night under the stars. Or was it raining? I couldn't remember, but the sound of drops hitting the window was still there. It felt real. He was sat, on the roof, outside my window drawing in the water on the glass. When he saw me, he perked up, and motioned me outside. I pulled down the blinds, and quickly got dressed. I joined him outside, as the rain was finally letting up. A crisp fall breeze blowing our hair in our faces slightly. We hopped off the roof, his arms helping me down into a warm embrace, as we decided what to do. We started walking, the slick ground strewn with leaves crunching under our shoes. "The air smelled like wet earth, fresh but unsettling, as though everything had just come alive after a long sleep. Ash's hand found mine as we walked, but his touch felt different. More certain, more deliberate. "Do you remember this place?" Ash asked suddenly. I looked around—the trees seemed familiar, but only in the way that dreams do, where everything feels right but slightly off. I stopped, trying to remember where we were. The world felt like it was breathing, expanding, then contracting. Ash just smiled, like nothing was wrong. "You okay?" he asked, squeezing my hand. His grip felt real now. I was instantly grounded, feeling the hard earth beneath my feet finally. The ground beneath me felt solid, the soft rustle of leaves whispering overhead. I looked down at our intertwined hands, at the way his thumb traced absent circles on my skin. When I glanced back up, the stars reflected in his eyes, flickering like distant memories, a thoughtful look softening his face. We walked slowly, deliberately, towards the park. Towards our favorite tree, its bark rough beneath my fingers. The faint smell of daisies lingered in the cool breeze, a car drove by playing Tugboat by Galaxie 500. The world felt still, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was shifting.

     When I woke the following evening, the crisp air was still. My window was open, the faint sounds of nature cooing outside. Leaves rustling and blowing into my room in lazy, swirling patterns, settling softly on the floor. I sat up, rubbing my eyes, trying to remember how the window had been opened. Hadn't I closed it last night? Or was it even last night? Everything felt suspended in time. The light outside had an almost unnatural glow—fading, but not quite dark. I got up slowly, my legs heavy, like they hadn't moved in days. I glanced at the clock on my nightstand, but the hands weren't moving. The ticking had stopped. Ash. I needed to see him. I started my descent down the stairs, hastily but groggily, hoping to see him when I arrived. As I reached the front door, I half expected Ash to be waiting there, like he had been the last time. Or had that been a dream too? I opened the door, stepping outside. The street was empty, but the world felt full, alive with anticipation. I could still feel the stars from the night before, their invisible presence hanging above me, watching. Waiting. I popped in my headphones, pulled up my hood, and kept walking down the sidewalk towards his house. Dreams by The Cranberries played in my ears, the soft melody almost lulling me into a trance as the world around me felt muted, distant. The ground beneath my feet felt strange—bouncy, wobbly—but I kept going, determined to reach him. With each step, the street lights flickered on, one by one, casting long, stretching shadows. My heart raced, faster than it should have, like I was running in slow motion. I finally reached his house, breathless, my chest tight as if I'd sprinted the whole way. I ran up his front steps and rang the doorbell, the chime echoing through the empty, dark windows. Nothing happened at first. I stood there, the wind picking up around me, rustling the leaves in spirals at my feet. I rang the doorbell again, harder this time, pressing it until my finger went numb. Finally, after what felt like forever, the door creaked open. Ash stood there, but he looked different. His eyes were deeper, darker somehow, still reflecting the stars, but with a familiar warmth just beyond reach. He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "You made it," he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. I pulled out my headphones and looked around. The world behind me felt farther away now, like it was slipping through my fingers. I stepped inside, and the door shut softly behind me. We walked up to his room, to sit on the bed and talk. I didn't want to think right now, I just wanted to listen to his voice carry me away.

   A few weeks later, I awoke to Ash beside me, on the blanket under the stars with Starlight by Muse playing softly next to us on the speaker. I looked over to him, stars still reflecting in his eyes, a thoughtful expression on his sleeping face. All felt right with the world.