But maybe I love the stars not because I love darkness and loneliness and comfy blankets tucked under during my 10 PMs. But maybe I love the stars not because of anxiety attacks or childhood beliefs of shooting stars granting wishes for my 15-year old innocence. But maybe I love the stars, not because of the poetries I longed to write with the love that ceased to exist in my lifetime.
Well, maybe I just love the stars after all. Not because it showed “me”, but because they remind me of a particular feeling.
Maybe because they remind me of someone — well, maybe they remind me of you.