Twenty-Six
"What do you think it's like to be a star?"
I asked the question to Dylan without realizing, resting my head on the stack of books we had brought up to the hill.
He didn't answer right away, taking some time to ponder out his response.
"Free."
"But they're always stuck up there. Not moving. Never changing. Just so people like us can stare at them and wonder how their lives could be so perfect."
The cool midnight breeze scurried across my lips as Dylan laid back beside me.
"Everyone from Earth is always staring at them. It's been like that since the beginning of time. But up there-"
He pointed.
"No one is there to hold them back anymore. We get to watch from here, never really hearing what's happening inside of them. We only see the best angle; the vibrant lights, twinkling, beaming, and perfect. So it's free in the way of shining for everyone else, and for the first time, they're just shining for themselves."
I rubbed my hands in the grass, not meeting his eyes, and breathing in the rich aroma of Earth.
"Like death and life. One holds you hostage among Earth's prisoners, molding you into one of them, while the other lets you reform yourself. Even after so much may have been lost in the place before."
Dylan nodded.
I thought about all the ways people were different from stars, and how we were still nearly the same.
