dear galaxy in the night,
you are irresistible.
every night, you resemble something different, but every night, you resemble something beautiful.
last week, the stars sparkling in you were like the sprinkle of sesame on my mother's burgers. you felt like home and family and everything my heart craves for so i sat under the night sky and tried to believe that i was at a family barbeque.
the night before that, the darkness in you was like the darkness inside the tent in the sandpit i built with my father when i was three. that year, and the year after that, and after that, the only darkness that the tent saw was the darkness of evening. that darkness was occasionally illuminated by torches flashed around inside it, held by little hands belonging to me and my friends from my upscale suburban neighborhood. now, more than a few years later, it sees a different kind of darkness. it sees the darkness of neglect and loneliness, that has hovered upon it ever since my friends and i got too busy to illuminate it's darkness. but i, like my tent, drown in nostalgia, so when your darkness felt familiar, i brought out a blanket and a torch and pretended that nothing had changed.
two nights ago, it was your stars again. they reminded me of the dots that scattered a particular chat of mine. that chat, it is flooded with messages. unanswered messages. there is both safety and chaos in those messages. both affection and distance. both sound and silence. god, so much sound, and so much silence. sound loud enough to drown out all else, silence soft enough to lull me to sleep on my worst days. sometimes though, the silence makes it a bad day. so galaxy, when your stars looked like my chat, i opened it up, and added another star to my own personal galaxy, wishing i would just get a reply.
last night, the stars spared me, but it's as if you were conspiring against me, with all of your elements. it rained. the raindrops drew teardrops from my eyes. my tears mixed with the rain. they flowed down the ground, and it gave me comfort to know that this one time, my sadness will be a part of something beautiful. i'm sorry, galaxy, these teardrops are all i could give back to you in return for all the comfort you've given me. i hope these lost drops are the dew under someone's bare feet tomorrow morning. i hope they become a part of the ocean.
tonight, i hope the stars emerge again. i hope they align themselves into a path. a path to my family. a path to my love. a path to a place which will soothe the ache in my heart. i hope the stars align themselves into this path. then maybe this path will be something beautiful too.
