100 million miles apart

They were like the sun and the sea.

She was so beautiful, and she shone like golden rays streaming through a crystal sky. She was warmth, she was light, she was everything that brought life to his inky waters. All he ever was was a reflection of her beauty, of her radiance. He could do nothing but bounce her brilliance back, pocketing a few pieces and refracting the rest. She made him far more lovely, but what did he ever do for her? What can the small waves of a tiny planet ever do to something as illustrious as the sun?

Nothing; but even she could not reach the farthest parts of him, because light can only make it so far into the ocean before the darkness consumes it. The sun can only reach so deep, yet even past the sun's fading rays, there is life. There is still life in the darkest, deepest parts of the water, so maybe, he didn't need her as much as he thought he did - maybe she wasn't everything. Maybe he was more than the pieces of her that shone through him.

In that same way, maybe she was more than the rippled reflections of her people saw. Maybe she didn't need him for people to finally recognize her brilliance. Maybe they were both born to be forever, just perhaps not with each other.

And maybe, just maybe, there's a reason why the sun and the sea have always been, and always will be, a hundred million miles apart.

- because even though love is infinite, people aren't, and even though some things last forever, that doesn't mean they're meant to.