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“We’re under the same starry sky,” I say. “We always are.” “Not together,” I argue. “I think we’ve always been together, even when we were apart,” he says, slipping his hand around mine. “I know it’s a cliché, but sometimes I would look up at the stars and wonder if you were ever looking at them at the same time,” I admit. “When I looked up at the stars, I saw us. You were the stars, and I was the dark sky behind you.” — Jenn Bennett
We’re under the same starry sky,” I say.
“We always are.”
“Not together,” I argue.
“I think we’ve always been together, even when we were apart,” he says, slipping his hand around mine.
“I know it’s a cliché, but sometimes I would look up at the stars and wonder if you were ever looking at them at the same time,” I admit.
“When I looked up at the stars, I saw us. You were the stars, and I was the dark sky behind you.