on the universe

Hey you.

I'm sitting up on this star without you, and I can't see you from up here. It's nice here. Quiet, dark, cool, and there's no one else. 

I'm still waiting for your return. I know you said you were busy, and you had to go do some things down on earth. That's okay.

When are you coming back?

This star is growing old, and he told me that he wants to see you again before he dies. He wants to hear your voice again.

I do too.

I want you to see the universe with me. Lets visit some more stars together. I know that earth needs you right now, but I'll just stay here. I'll keep looking for you down there, even though my vision isn't so good.

My hands are getting cold. I miss you. Our star misses you. Earth needs you. I'm trying to remember that. It's getting more difficult, because I'm starting to forget what color your eyes are. I'm attempting to recall your voice.

Was it low? Was it high? Did it sound like a clear bell at six in the morning? Did it sound like pine needles in the wind? Was it sad? Was it happy?

It made me happy.

I remember that.

Anyway. I'll just stay here with this star and wait for you to come back. Then we can carve our names into the velvety night, just like we said before you left.

I thought about doing it without you. I'm sorry. I'll wait for you. I will.

It's getting colder up here. Our star is going out. I can hear it in his old, solemn voice. He's singing for you, that song you used to sing for him. He's singing for you and the entire universe can hear it.

Can you?

I hope you can. I hope you've grown quiet for our star. He loved you. I'm sorry he didn't get to see you before he died.

I'm still waiting for you, my love.