Staring at the sky used to make me feel connected to everything. I'd stare at the stars and think that everyone was looking at this same sky. It expands around the globe, wrapping it in atmospheric-whatever-you-wanna-call-it. I never knew much about what the sky actually is, but I figured you didn't really need to know to appreciate that it's huge and beautiful and the whole planet is surrounded by it. As a little girl, I just liked to stare up at the sky and imagine that whoever I'd marry someday could see the same stars. Being a boy, though, he'd probably imagine he was an astronaut and have no thought of his future bride, but I was okay with that because I'd like how adventurous he was. It wasn't until I met that boy that the sky lost the meaning it used to hold for me and became something different entirely.
It turned out that the little astronaut boy's name was Victor. Instead of looking at the stars while I was, though, he was finding shapes in the clouds. And while he was counting stars and imagining other planets, I was outlining dragons in the clouds with my finger against the window. Victor was in Australia—eleven thousand, eight hundred and fifty-two miles away from me. He was twelve hours into my future, experiencing a completely different sky until we finally met. When we met online, everyone told me it was dangerous to meet him in person. I didn't care. He was on the opposite side of the world from me, and he represented adventures I'd been too afraid to go on up until then.
The first night I spent in Victor's apartment, I stared through his window at the Indian Ocean. It expanded out for miles, and the sky reminded me of home. While the sun went down, the sky looked deceptively similar to the sky I was used to. As the stars came out, though, Victor turned from his writing desk to watch me as I looked for constellations I recognized. When I started to realize that most of the stars were in strange places, he kissed my cheek and pointed up at a group of stars I'd never seen before.
"That's the Southern Cross," he whispered. "You see the brightest star, there?" He wrapped an arm around my waist, sitting behind me, pointing with his opposite arm. I nodded. "That's called Acrux. It's actually two stars, not one. They orbit each other, but they're so far away from us that we see them as if they were one star."
"We don't have those stars where I'm from," I mumbled, almost embarrassed. "I don't know why, but I always thought the sky looked the same everywhere you went."
"The sky is huge, little Fox," he knew the nickname he'd given me would grab my attention from the sky. "Besides, new places would be boring without different skies to entertain us at night." He gave my forehead a kiss and turned over, promising a trip into town the next morning. He mumbled on about the sword swallower that sets up outside the markets, but he quickly drifted to sleep. I stared at the stars a while longer, but my body was so confused by the time difference and jet lag that I quickly fell asleep after him.
The following three months I spent with Victor were beautiful. We lived in his apartment, and I cleaned up while he was at work. We ordered pizzas and watched movies on his couch together. We went out to town every Tuesday for half-price waffles, and we guessed at the characters of passersby. We spent time with his family and friends, and we took a trip to Melbourne to visit some of his extended family. Every night, before bed, I'd look for Acrux in the sky and think about how many different skies there could be. Victor would laugh at me and tell me to get some sleep.
When three months ended, Victor sat with me at the gate, waiting for my flight home to start boarding. I held the boarding pass tight, worrying I might lose it on purpose. I knew I couldn't stay, but I would have done anything to spend just one more day in the new world I'd fallen in love with. He smiled weakly at me, trying to keep himself strong, because he knew I'd lose it if he did. At 1:15AM the woman at the desk announced that my flight was boarding.
I hugged Victor tightly, begging him to let me stay one more week. I knew my visa wouldn't allow it, but I begged anyway. He took my face in his hand, wiping the tears from my cheeks and grinned.
"Listen, give me your arm," his voice was strong and steady. He took a pen and drew little stars on my arm. "Don't forget Acrux."
I hugged him as tightly as I could and kissed him, but it was time to board my flight. As I got ready for the long journey home, I thought of the promises we'd made. Promises that I'd come back as soon as I could and promises that he'd visit me when he could find the time. My thoughts quickly shifted back to Acrux. When the plane took off, and we escaped the lights of the city, I searched for the Southern Cross. I wanted to see it one last time before I returned to the sky I used to know.
Victor and I resided on opposite sides of the planet, quietly orbiting each other from a far, but we would always be seen as a unit. I used to stare at the sky and think that the sky connected me to everyone and everything. We were all under one sky, and that made us a part of something huge. After spending time with Victor, I realized that the sky didn't connect us at all. We saw in the sky what we saw in ourselves. We were Acrux; we were two parts of a beautiful unity that would always shine as one whether we were together or not.
