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“On clear nights, I’d sit out on the porch and gaze up at the stars. So many of them, scrawled across a sky so vast it made my head hurt. And I’d tell myself that if the stars could do it – if they could exist for billions of years in isolation – I could do it, too. I’d just pretend I was a star, that’s all. A ball of energy, burning up, light years from anyone and anything.” — Emma Lord
On clear nights, I’d sit out on the porch and gaze up at the stars.
So many of them, scrawled across a sky so vast it made my head
hurt. And I’d tell myself that if the stars could do it – if they could
exist for billions of years in isolation – I could do it, too. I’d just
pretend I was a star, that’s all. A ball of energy, burning up, light
years from anyone and anything.