"she loves me.. she loves me not... she loves me" she says picking petals. "how can you trust a flower more than a persons own words?" i say. she goes on to pick the entire field of flowers just so she knows for sure that all the signs she is getting is that 'she loves her not'. laying desperately looking up at the billions of stars wondering, "how could i be so dumb to think that she loved me." i gently grab her hand to reinsure her and quietly say pointing up, "look up at all those many stars.. you will find your star one day. just she wasn't the one."
